The Orchid Thief
by madame.alexandra
Summary: An AU of the crossover persuasion. A heartbreaking crime is perpetrated on Leroy Jethro Gibbs' daughter, leaving her with a broken childhood. SVU Detective Jennifer Shepard, fractured in her own right, vows to piece Kelly's life back. JIBBS, uniquely.
1. The First

_A/N: This is the second time I try my hand at an AU, and the first time I attempt a cross-over. Two in one? I consider myself eitherr accomplished, or crazy. You read, and you decide._

_What You Need To Know: Jennifer Shepard is a Washington DC SVU Detective; put her in place of either Cassidy or Jeffries (season 1 of LAw&Order, SVU). John Munch is her partner, Elliot Stabler, Olivia Benson, Odafin Tutuola, Donald Cragen, Alex Cabot, and George Huang hold the same positions. Leroy Jethro Gibbs is an NCIS agent, the Shannon-Drug cartel storyline did happen, and Gibbs did kill the man who murdered Shannon. He works with Mike Franks, Abby Sciuto, and Tony DiNozzo. Kelly is alive, and Gibbs has a younger daughter as well: Elizabeth. Let the plot unfold. _

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* * *

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**Friday December 3rd 1991. Washington DC. 10:26 pm. **

Jennifer Shepard closed her eyes and cracked her neck tensely, leaning back in her desk chair as she balefully considered the stacks of hopeless case files in front of her. She propped the heel of her leather boot up on her desk and gave the half-deserted squad room a withering look.

No one in their right mind was still here at ten p.m. on a Friday night.

"You aren't in your right mind," announced a gruff-like-sandpaper voice from behind her. A cheap cup of office coffee was placed next to her lazy foot on the desk and she smiled indulgently, accustomed to the owner of the coffee-bearing hand reading her thoughts.

"Circumstances make you my date for the night again and you couldn't spring for the good stuff?" she scoffed, lifting her head as she reached for the complimentary cup and giving her partner and mentor, the only other cop crazy enough to stick around tonight, a condescending look.

John Munch shrugged his thin shoulders and drew up his chair to his own desk, flicking his lamp to make it shine brighter. Jenny fell silent and tilted the Styrofoam cup to her lips for a pick-me-up, disheartened with the never-shrinking pile of open cases.

"Thought you had a date tonight," Munch ventured.

"Correction: I had a date Thursday night. We had to stay late for the Zucker case, I cancelled, and he pretty much cancelled any further contact."

"Ah, gee, Jenny, sorry to hear that."

"Yeah, you're heartbroken," she fired back good-naturedly.

He smirked.

"You get anything new on the Lafferty thing? After talking to Ms. Vincent?"

Jenny rolled her eyes.

"Oh, you know how I feel about statutory, John. Sixteen-year-old says she _wanted_ to fuck the twenty-year-old, I say we let them go at it, but the law says Brent Lafferty gets listed next to Joe Pedophile in the files."

"Progressive of you," remarked Munch, "too bad Daddy Vincent wants the boyfriend in jail."

Jenny shrugged. Of all the cruel and violent sex crimes crowding her plate right now, the Lafferty statutory case was low on her list of priorities.

She swung her foot off the desk and stood up, sweeping a few worn out case files into her arms and walking over to the file cabinet to organize them. Munch leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head.

"Remind me why we're still here?"

"You're avoiding your ex-wives?" Jenny answered smartly.

"Funny. Your excuse?"

"Good Samaritan," she said certainly. "I let Stabler off the hook. He hasn't seen those kids in a month."

"What's he got now, fifty?" asked Munch with a snort. "Don't let him go home and make more."

"Don't make fun," Jenny reprimanded. "He's a catholic," she explained in a hushed voice.

"You're biased. You love kids," Munch rolled his eyes.

Jenny shrugged and smiled to herself, boredly organizing files. The good thing about her job was boredom. If she was bored, or Munch was bored, or any of them were bored around the Washington, DC Special Victims Unit Precinct, it had been a good day.

"I could say the same for you," she quipped teasingly. "You're bitter because he gets to see that foxy wife of his. And you love wives."

"You never cease to make me laugh, _Jennifer_," deadpanned Munch.

His phone rang shrilly, and Jenny bared her teeth at him in a threat at the use of her full name as he snatched it off the cradle and answered.

"D.C.P.D SVU."

Jenny shook her head and went back to moseying around the files. She figured she'd head out in a few minutes. It was useless trying to find leads in these old cases, he-said/she-saids and files full of uncooperative witnesses. She was better off taking a night to relax and wash off the stress of such a depressing job.

"Hey," Munch called, slamming the phone down. He stood up abruptly and holstered his gun.

Jenny straightened and shoved the cabinet drawer shut, blinking herself back to reality. He looked up at her dismally, grabbing his badge.

"There was a rape on M street; Secret Service Police caught the tail end."

"What hospital?" Jenny asked, finding her own weapon and badge quickly and following Munch swiftly out of the squad room to the elevator. He shook his head as the elevator door closed.

"They're still at the scene."

Jenny swore.

"I hate the Secret Service," she growled, storming towards a squad car as they exited into the chilly night air of the parking garage.

* * *

**Friday December 3rd 1993. M Street. 10:37 pm. **

It was a familiar setting.

Police cars, yellow tape with large black writing, street lights, straggling onlookers, the crackle and murmur of walky-talkies, and the blinding, epileptic flash of red and blue lights.

Jenny and Munch ducked under the foreboding yellow police tape. She spotted an ambulance, lights flashing, already parked at the scene; two paramedics were blocking her view of the victim on the gurney.

"Hey, who are you two?" shouted an officer, blocking their way.

"SVU," barked Jenny, before Munch could respond. The younger officer glanced at her badge and held up his hands, backing off.

"You got the victim?" asked John.

Jenny nodded shortly.

"Find out which idiot didn't get the vic to a hospital," she muttered, maneuvering quickly through the federal personnel to reach the ambulance faster. She flashed her badge more than a few times, gritting her teeth in annoyance with each pause, and finally tapped a paramedic on the shoulder.

"Detective Shepard, DC SVU," she said a little more gently.

The man nodded and moved out of the way.

As usual, Jenny felt like she'd been punched in the gut when she saw the little girl curled up on the gurney. She swallowed stalwartly and squared her shoulders. The girl was covered in a blanket but still shivering.

"Name?" Jenny asked.

Someone shook their head 'no'.

Jenny reached out and placed a very gently hand on the girl's long, soft auburn hair. The little girl immediately flinched at the contact and Jenny eased her hand back a little.

"Hey, honey," she said quietly, gesturing to the back of the ambulance silently with a pointed glare. A few paramedics began readying the area to head to a hospital. Jenny looked back at the little girl. She opened her eyes. Jenny smiled at her.

"My name is Jenny," she said, stroking her hair soothingly. "I'm here to help you, okay? Can you tell me your name?" The girl, who looked to be about ten years old, responded incoherently and then shifted her head.

"I want Daddy," she said clearly.

Jenny nodded, reaching for the girl's small hand and holding it tightly.

"Secret service found a bag with her," Munch said quietly from behind. "Military ID in it. Looks old; it's from Camp Pendleton."

Jenny took the bag and placed it on the gurney, and then took the ID and tags Munch held out to her.

"You got statements?" she asked shortly.

He nodded.

"I'll ride with her," she said, and beckoned to the paramedic. "Take her to Bethesda, this ID is Marine Corp issue," she said firmly, and then nodded to the others to help get the gurney into the ambulance.

She shrugged off her coat and placed it on the little girl, tucking it around her as the put her in the back of the bus. Jenny got in after her, slamming the doors shut as she scanned the cute picture and the name on the military ID expertly.

_Gibbs, Kelly Marie._

Jenny tucked the ID into her pocket and sat on the edge of the gurney, putting her hand on the little girl's back again.

"Kelly?" she asked nicely.

Kelly looked up at her, obviously recognizing her name. Jenny smiled again, the sad and confused, hurt look in her eyes tugging at the heartstrings.

"Kelly is a very pretty name," she said.

"Kelly green was my mommy's favorite colour," Kelly said shakily in a small voice.

Jenny smiled encouragingly. It was rare for kids this young to respond at all.

"How old are you, hon?" she asked quietly.

"Eight," was the quiet answer.

Jenny bit her lip, pushing down a flash of anger. It was sick, crimes like this being perpetrated on a child. Absolutely disgusting. She wasn't sure if this little girl knew what had happened to her. Some did, some didn't. And it was always hard, no matter what the case.

Jenny held up the dog tags that had been with Kelly's things.

"Are these your Daddy's?" she asked gently, still touching Kelly's hair to provide comfort. Kelly nodded slowly. She sat up and grasped Jenny's coat around her, her mouth trembling as she reached for them.

Kelly started crying. Jenny rubbed her shoulder soothingly and leaned forward, kissing the top of her head.

"I'll call him, honey, he'll come get you. Can you tell me his name? Let me get in touch with him? I know you want to see him," she soothed.

Kelly nodded, sniffling as she tried to muster the strength to answer. She spoke thickly and weakly through her tears, and Jenny felt another white-hot rush of anger.

"Leroy Jethro Gibbs."

* * *

_Just a precautionary warning: I use rather harsh language flippantly in this story.  
A side note: This is my first time writing any of the characters from SVU, so forgive me if that disintegrates into a massive failure. If I may have a little confidence in myself, I don't think they're too OoC, but by all means, let me know.  
-Alexandra_


	2. The Second

_A Few More Details: Elizabeth Gibbs is three years old. She was three months old when Shannon was killed. Kelly is eight, as previously stated. She was six when Shannon was killed. Gibbs retired from the Marine corp shortly after and has been working at NCIS for just over a year. Jenny is about twenty-five or twenty-six. _

* * *

**Friday December 3rd 1993. Bethesda Naval Hospital. 11:09 pm. **

Jennifer Shepard listened to the attending nurse's monologue of findings with the cool, professional composure of any good sex crimes detective; she had been doing this far too long to break down in hysterics or have her stomach turned by the details of a rape.

Experience did not mean, however, that she was not disgusted and saddened by the occurrence, and it certainly did not mean she was numb to heartache for little Kelly Gibbs in the hospital room just behind the nurse's back.

"Bruises on the inner thighs, knees, and ribcage but no fractured bones; pronounced handprint on the left buttock and coiled around the back of the neck. Superficial lacerations on the knees and thighs with gravel and asphalt in the wounds," the nurse explained quietly, giving a quick glance to where Kelly was. "Severe vaginal trauma—"

"Anything from the rape kit?" asked Jenny dutifully.

With a sigh, the nurse nodded.

"Fluids, a couple of hairs. Blood on her clothes from a freshly perforated hymen. The vaginal canal is red an inflamed, as well as the inner and outer labia. She's running a high fever, but I'm not sure if that's related or not. We've taken swabs to test for STDs and administered a weak sedative in case she falls asleep."

"No nightmares," murmured Jenny, looking over the nurse's shoulder. She sighed and flipped the notebook in her hands shut, tucking her ink pen behind her ear distractedly. "Thank you. I need the DNA and other findings from the rape kit sent to our lab ASAP," Jenny paused and looked into the room again. She lowered her voice. "Will she be able to go home tonight?"

The nurse nodded hesitantly.

"I don't see why not. If she wants to, it might be best. Thank you for distracting her while I did the exam, it made things go much smoother."

Jenny nodded absently and the nurse, hearkening to the sound of her beeper, inclined her head and bowed out, disappearing purposefully down the hall. Jenny moved closer to the clear glass viewing window so she could see Kelly.

The doctor was looking at her chart and seemed to be talking to her. Kelly had stopped crying a few minutes after arriving at the hospital, but she hadn't wanted Jenny to leave her. Jenny bit her lip and opened the door to Kelly's room, coming in with a smile on her face.

"Hi, Kelly," she greeted gently.

Kelly struggled up, her cheeks pale, except for the colouring of an ugly black and blue bruise blossoming over one cheek. The doctor glanced at his patient and Jenny approached the bed, dragging up a chair.

"What does Dr. Gelfand have to say?" Jenny asked, glancing at the man. He smiled at her.

"He says I'm brave," Kelly answered. Jenny nodded. The little girl's voice was still softly hoarse from screaming or crying—or both—and her beautiful blue eyes, which Jenny was willing to bet where bright and gorgeous under other circumstances, were lackluster and dull.

Dr. Gelfand laid Kelly's clipboard on the edge of her bed and beckoned subtly to Jenny. Jenny nodded and then gave Kelly a secretive look.

"I think Dr. Gelfand is too shy to admit it," she said, keeping her voice hushed. "He has to tell me where you can't hear him. Give me a minute, okay?"

Kelly nodded slowly, watching Jenny get up and move away with her big blue eyes. Dr. Gelfand turned his back to Kelly and kept his voice low as he spoke.

"She's pre-pubescent, so clearly there's no risk of pregnancy. Paramedics said when the SS found her at the scene she was unconscious and bleeding from the head and genitals, but there was no substantial blood loss. I'm concerned about the head injury even though she seems to be functioning; if she presents with any nausea or dizziness, it may mean she has a concussion. Keep an eye on that," he informed practically.

Jenny nodded and Dr. Gelfand shook his head, removing his glasses and tucking them into his pocket.

"I wish you'd stop bringing me children, Jenny," he said forlornly.

Jenny smiled bitterly.

"Not as much as I do, Todd," she responded. He left the room, and she returned to Kelly, this time perching on the edge of the little girl's bed. Kelly's clothes had been removed as evidence and she'd been placed in a hospital gown with flowers on it. She still had Jenny's coat.

"Jenny? I don't like hospitals," Kelly said softly. Jenny smiled sadly.

"Me neither. They're too cold, don't you think?"

Kelly snuggled under Jenny's coat in response. She shook her head.

"Mommy died in a hospital," she said instead. Jenny's heart skipped a beat. This wasn't fair at all. She leaned forward and took Kelly's hand, tracing a flower pattern on her palm softly.

"Is Daddy here yet?" Kelly asked, her voice trembling.

"We called him, sweetheart. He said he'd be here as fast as he could."

"That's really fast," Kelly informed Jenny solemnly. Jenny smiled in amusement.

"Is that because your Dad is a marine?" she inquired.

"Umm, huh-uh," Kelly murmured, furrowing her brow. "No, he stopped being a marine so he wouldn't have to leave us anymore. He works at the NCIS now," she said. She got quiet. "He always is fast when I want him," she said.

Jenny smiled.

"That's good," she said thickly, very pleased to hear that this kid had someone who really loved her to get her through this. Not everyone was that lucky. Jenny hadn't been that lucky. She squeezed Kelly's hand comfortingly.

"He's going to be mad," Kelly said softly, her mouth shaking a little. "He's protective," she murmured. Jenny stroked the little girl's hand gently, giving her a soft smile. It was perceptive of Kelly to think of that, but then, she knew her own father better than Jenny (who didn't know him at all). Jenny simply knew the fathers were always raging mad. Who could blame them?

"Hey, Kelly? Is it okay if we talk about what happened to you?" she asked very gently.

Kelly closed her mouth and leaned back, rolling on her side to look at Jenny from the pillows. She swallowed and nodded her head uncertainly. Jenny gave her a faltering, encouraging smile and pulled her small hand into both of hers.

"The doctor said you were unconscious when the police helped you. Can you tell me what you remember before you met me?"

Kelly reached behind her neck and touched her skin.

"A man pushed me and dragged me with him, and he broke smashed my tiara…and he hurt me," she murmured uncertainly. Jenny squeezed her hand again, just to let Kelly know it was okay.

"I know it was scary, Kelly," Jenny said sympathetically. Kelly nodded. Jenny hesitated briefly and then pushed on. "You know he hurt you, Kelly. Do you understand—"

"I know what he did," Kelly interrupted, looking at Jenny. She swallowed hard and then her eyes filled with tears again and she squeezed Jenny's hand this time and reached for her arm with her other. "But I don't understand," she whimpered, and Jenny leaned down closer.

Kelly touched her hair and then her eyes fell to the small silver pendant on Jenny's necklace and she touched it gently.

"You don't understand what, Kelly?" Jenny asked softly, letting Kelly hold onto the charm she always wore at her throat.

"_Why_," Kelly answered hoarsely. "Daddy said you were supposed to love each other and I could say no if I didn't—" Kelly's words caught in her throat and she pulled her hands back, putting her fingers against her mouth. "I told him to stop. I _screamed_ at him. And he didn't."

Jenny pressed her fingers to the Kelly's forehead soothingly.

"I know," she murmured. "Shhh. Its okay, honey. It's okay to cry," she said.

There was a sharp rap on the window behind her and Jenny turned. Munch beckoned to her and she turned back to Kelly, biting her lip. She pulled her hand back slowly.

"Kelly, can you give me another minute? If I promise I'll come right back?"

Kelly nodded slowly but she opened her eyes and clenched her fist.

"I want you to stay, Jenny," she mumbled.

"I'll come right back," she repeated sincerely, standing up slowly. Kelly didn't take her eyes off of her and Jenny smiled reassuringly before she turned and swiftly exited, shutting the door tightly before she let Munch begin speaking.

"She's responding to you really well," he remarked, surprised by it.

"I've got a more shocking turn of events," muttered Jenny, walking away from Kelly's line of sight to speak with John. "She says she understands she was raped."

Munch lifted his brows.

"Fully understands?"

Jenny nodded. She was generally accustomed to two groups of rape victims: young children who were none the wiser to what had happened until it wreaked havoc on them years later and older teens and adults who were acutely aware of it.

Kelly seemed precocious at least.

Munch shook his head.

"CSU has set up where they found her to canvass the area. I contacted Fin and Benson to supervise the findings and got Cabot's voicemail when I tried to reach her. I figure she'll want to talk to the girl as soon as possible."

"That might be best, if we want to catch the bastard," Jenny agreed.

"Sir, you can't just go back there!" a patronized nurse warned loudly.

Jenny looked past Munch as the doors behind him flew open. One of the nurses rolled her eyes, unconcerned, and allowed the man hassling her to pass.

He was a rather impressive figure to try and stand up to. Tall and muscular, he had a clean-shaven face and a short-cropped crew cut. He wore a navy pea coat over jeans and a wrinkled polo, looked tired and worried and pissed all at the same time, and was holding a groggy toddler against his shoulder.

Munch and Jenny both turned to look as he caught the nearest nurse's attention.

"Who the hell is running this place?" he growled impatiently.

Munch gave Jenny a look and she nodded, stepping away from him and walking over.

"I'll handle this," she said to the nurse, who scampered away thankfully.

The man turned piercing blue eyes on her and she recognized them instantly as the mirrors of the little girl's in the room she'd left minutes ago. She didn't want to assume, but she knew that this had to be Kelly's father and she was relieved to see him.

The toddler he was holding, another little girl with her hair tied up in short pigtails, shifted and looked at Jenny through her fingers, smiling widely and sleepily. Jenny smiled at her distractedly and drew herself up.

"Maybe I can help you, sir," she said confidently, meeting his eyes levelly.

"Don't call me sir, I work for a living," he retorted, and she lifted her eyebrows. "Kelly. The police—a woman, called about my daughter. I'm Jethro Gi—"

"You are Kelly's father," Jenny said quickly, wanting to cut down on idle chit chat. She held out her hand. "I'm Detective Jennifer Shepard, I'm the woman who you spoke to," she said. He took her hand firmly and shook it.

"Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs," he said shortly. He plowed right along, looking at her with those sharp, sure eyes intensely. "My daughter?"

"Sissy," the toddler said promptly, sitting up and blinking sleepily. She wrapped her arms around Agent Gibbs' neck and turned her head to look at Jenny with another cute smile. "Kelly is at ballet," she said in the slurred, innocent speech of a very young child.

Distractedly, he placed his hand on the kid's head and pressed her against his shoulder.

"Agent Gibbs," Jenny said. "Your daughter is hurt, but she's fine. She is in the room just around that corner," he began to move past her, but Jenny took his arm unthreateningly and stopped him, looking at him pointedly. "You need to let me finish, Agent Gibbs. You have to know what happened before you see her."

He paused, seemed to struggle internally for a moment, and then grudgingly turned his attention to her, his jaw set. She jerked her head towards a bench near the wall and he followed her, sitting down next to her.

Before she could say anything, his little girl twisted away from him and grabbed Jenny's hand, squirming out of Agent Gibbs' grip.

"Name?" she asked sweetly. "I Uh-lizza-beth," she said.

"Elizabeth," grunted Agent Gibbs, trying to keep a hold on her. Jenny reached out and took her arms to steady her. Elizabeth tried to crawl into her lap. "Liz!" he growled.

"It's fine," murmured Jenny, allowing the toddler to tumble into her lap and sit there, reaching to play with her previously stored ink pen contentedly.

He sat tensely, his hands in his lap, watching her with a sharp eye like he didn't trust her. Jenny lowered her voice so she wouldn't attract the attention of the child who'd taken up residence in her lap.

"Secret service police found Kelly in an alley on M street and called us in. I'm with DC Special Victims Unit," she paused to see if he would recognize the implications and he did, but the facial expression change was subtle; very subtle. His jaw tightened imperceptibly more.

"What happened, Detective?" he asked sharply, and she could tell she needn't spend any time softening the blow or beating around the bush on this one.

"She's been raped, Agent Gibbs."

As conditioned as she was to this work, Jenny wasn't prepared for the look that crossed his eyes when she said it. Pure and unrestrained agony is what it looked like, coupled with distress, and then the same white-hot, burning anger she always felt.

Elizabeth was touching her necklace now, and Jenny couldn't bring herself to look away from Agent Gibbs. He leaned forward, put his hand over his mouth tensely, and then closed his eyes briefly, everything in him seeming to harden coldly.

"The son of a bitch who did it?" he asked tersely, in a voice so raw and brittle she feared for anyone who crossed him.

"Gone," she said stiffly. "We have substantial evidence, though," she said, and realized it might have been the wrong thing to say when he visibly flinched. He knew, no doubt, what it meant to have evidence in a rape case.

He remained silent for a moment.

"I want to see her," he said with a glare.

Jenny nodded, standing up. She almost forgot she had his other little girl in her lap until the extra weight reminded her, and she raised her eyebrows at Elizabeth. Agent Gibbs seemed to wake up and notice, reaching out and taking her by the waist.

"C'mere, Lizzy," he said gently.

"Kelly?" she asked perkily, cocking her head. Agent Gibbs hugged her and nodded, looking at Jenny impatiently. She turned and he fell into step beside her, going with her in the direction of Kelly's room.

Elizabeth was still looking at Jenny from his shoulder, smiling in a very friendly way, her eyes bright and just the same colour as Kelly's.

"Is Kelly," Agent Gibbs asked tightly, faltering. "Okay?" he finished for lack of anything better to say.

Jenny nodded curtly.

"She is," she said gently. "She's talking, and she…she responded to me very well, it was rather surprising. She talked to me and let me touch her," she said, trying to reassure this man as best she could.

She stopped near the door and Jethro turned to her, looking in the window, distracted.

"Yeah, well, you look like her mother," he muttered, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of Kelly. Jenny looked too; Kelly was playing with the buttons on Jenny's coat, curled up on her side again. Jenny knew it was because lying on her back was uncomfortable.

"She says she understands what happened to her," Jenny ventured, reaching out and putting her hand on the door knob slowly.

He looked at her sharply.

"Kelly knows what sex is," he said bluntly.

Jenny nodded. She lifted a shoulder.

"I know you may think I'm crazy for saying this," she said in a low voice, "but believe me, that will make this easier."

He turned his head away and Jenny opened the door, letting him walk through. She slipped in after him, pulling the door shut quietly. Kelly looked up at the small commotion and sat up like a rocket. Jenny knew it probably broke her father's heart to see a smile break through that bruise on her face.

"Daddy!" she cried.

He let Elizabeth out of his grip onto the bed with Kelly and sat down next to her, immediately leaning forward and wrapping her tightly in his arms. Jenny smiled sadly as she watched Kelly hug him and bury her head in his shoulder, her small form enveloped by him.

"Kelly," the little one said, grabbing Agent Gibbs' shoulder and peering into Kelly's face with wide eyes.

"Hi, Lizzy. Feel all better?" Kelly asked.

"Kelly sick?" Elizabeth asked.

Kelly made a face and shook her head. She pulled back and looked at her father; he placed his hand on the back of her head and squeezed her shoulder.

Jenny leaned back against the door and watched carefully. There was nothing she could do at the moment. CSU was taking care of the crime scene, Fin and Benson would be canvassing the area, and Munch was taking care of opening the case. She was left to deal with the victim. She always was, because she was good with them.

Agent Gibbs had tilted Kelly's head up and was looking at the bruise on her face. Kelly had averted her eyes from him and was tugging her sister into her lap, messing with her pigtails. Elizabeth smiled in her cute way and collapsed back into Kelly, squirming and snuggling up. Agent Gibbs pressed his hand against his daughter's cheek and stroked her hair gently, hugging her again and resting his chin on her head. Elizabeth cuddled contently with her sister.

"Name," she said, pointing at Jenny again. Jenny smiled; Kelly looked up.

"Je-nee," she pronounced clearly.

"Je-nee," repeated Elizabeth.

Agent Gibbs looked around and straightened up a little. Kelly looked at him.

"She's a detective, Daddy. She stayed with me when they did the exam," she said.

Agent Gibbs leaned forward and kissed the top of Kelly's head, patting her shoulder gently. He got up, making sure Elizabeth was safe from falling off the bed, and came over to Jenny. She stepped away from the door to meet him.

"They did a rape kit?" he asked gruffly to corroborate Kelly's statement.

Jenny nodded affirmatively. He looked at her, waiting for her to tell him.

"Fluids, hairs. He didn't use a condom and he was sloppy. We've already sent the evidence and Kelly's clothing to forensics. My colleagues are canvassing the scene and surrounding areas and my partner has opened the case," Jenny explained.

He nodded curtly.

"I want it all sent to our forensic scientist," he said firmly. Jenny was taken aback, but then she shook her head.

"I can't do that," she said.

He glared at her.

"I work—"

"Kelly told me you're with the Navy cops," Jenny interrupted. "I understand you want to be in on this, clearly but—"

"In on it? Someone _raped_ my daughter! You're damn right I want to be _in_ _on_ _it_," he interrupted fiercely, keeping his voice low even if it was strained. Kelly had been right; Jenny could feel the anger emenating from him. Kelly was looking at them over Elizabeth's head, her eyes alert and anxious at the change in volume.

"Please, Agent Gibbs," Jenny placated. "I know. I understand, and that's why I can't just hand over pertinent evidence! You don't have jurisdiction over civilian rape cases, and it creates a questionable investigation if I give you the lead. Attorneys could raise questions of bias and I highly doubt you want Kelly's case jeopardized by something as petty as that. When I catch the son of a bitch responsible, don't you want him locked away no questions asked?"

He looked at her harshly, considering her words. He swallowed and his eyes flashed like fire for a brief second before they hardened threateningly.

"_If_ you catch him," he spat at her, as if he doubted her ability to do so, "I want him _dead_."

He turned away, but Jenny, gritting her teeth, grabbed his arm and snatched him back. She didn't miss the look of surprise on his face.

"It isn't a question of 'if', Agent Gibbs," she promised sharply. "It's '_when'_. You can bet your life on it."

He clenched his jaw, torn between her and his little girls in the hospital bed. His shoulders seemed to slump after a moment and he drew his eyes away from Kelly and looked at her tiredly, imploringly.

"What happened?" he asked desperately. His gaze was intense and painful. "_How_ could this happen?"

Jenny swallowed hard and set her own jaw.

"Do you think anything I say will answer that justifiably?" she asked.

He narrowed his eyes at her, studying her.

"Daddy," Kelly said softly. "Lizzy still has a fever."

Agent Gibbs pushed Jenny's hand off of him delicately and pulled away. Jenny retreated towards the hospital door, her last glimpse one of him picking up the toddler and pressing his hand to her forehead dejectedly.

* * *

**Saturday December 4th 1993. Bethesda Naval Hospital. 12:05 am.**

"Goddamnit," Jenny swore as she glared at the television set behind the nurse's station.

She turned away from the image of Detective Tutuola shoving a microphone out of his face and clenched her teeth, pressing her cell phone against her ear.

"It's barely been two hours and it's on the news?" she growled.

"Slow crime week in DC and the locusts see flashing lights, we tried to keep 'em back, Jenny," answered Olivia Benson distractedly through the phone line. She sounded as annoyed with the situation as Jenny was. "We won't release name or picture, don't worry. Just don't let the girl see it."

Jenny shook her head and rubbed her forehead, trying to ignore the murmur of perky news casters and their lust for breaking crime news. Parasites and pariahs, she hated them.

"….where just over an hour ago, Secret Service police stumbled upon the tail end of a violent sex crime involving a young girl…"

"Got anything at the scene?" she asked, glaring at the pert news reporter.

"Yeah, blood. Lots of it. CSU is taking swabs to see if any of it belongs to the perp, but they don't think it does. We found scuff marks from shoes, but the pattern is odd and smeared. Almost…too smooth for soles, if that makes sense. Forensics is gonna see what they can do with it—Fin's interviewing some of the people in the apartments around the area."

"Yeah, who called it in?" asked Jenny.

"Some jittery middle-aged woman on a third floor apartment, called 911, said she heard screaming. SS was closest to the scene, and they reckon they interrupted," Benson answered.

"Perp slammed her head to shut her up then," muttered Jenny. "He could have killed her."

"Be glad he didn't," Benson said grimly. "A dead little girl is bigger news than a hurt one. And they publish the name of homicide victims."

Jenny shrugged her shoulders. Benson was right; this was headline fodder for a day or so maybe, but the next homicide would suck the media's attention away instantly and at least Kelly Gibbs would have that respite.

"Anything else, Liv?"

"No, nothing. Except Fin found a little barrette on the sidewalk behind the alley, we think it's hers. We'll know more once we find out what happened before we were called in," Benson said.

"Right. Call if you find anything else," said Jenny, snapping her phone shut.

She fidgeted with the notepad in her hands and slid her phone into her pocket, looking up as Munch came around the corner, his big hands tucked into his coat pocket and his customary Indiana Jones-esque cap on his head.

It was after midnight now, time to either wake up and start a day or decided to push off until tomorrow. Jenny was hovering on the line of which was better right now.

"Fin and Benson getting anywhere?" Munch asked.

Jenny grunted in a non-committal way.

Munch shrugged.

"We won't have anything concrete from the lab until morning. I'm heading back to the station to file the pictures and initial statements, you stayin'?" he asked.

Jenny glanced toward the direction of Kelly's hospital room. A nurse was just walking in, putting her hand on Agent Gibbs' shoulder pleadingly and looking as if she was trying to calm him down. Distracted, Jenny nodded to Munch.

He looked in the same direction. Agent Gibbs had his toddler perched on his hip again and stormed out of the room.

"You think that kid can give us anything?" Munch asked doubtfully.

"She's the best witness we've got," Jenny responded confidently, filled with an inexplicable faith in the little girl. She gave Munch a warning look as Agent Gibbs approached them and Elizabeth immediately smiled at Jenny and peeked at her through little fingers again.

Jenny smiled and gave a small wave.

"Detective John Munch," Munch held out his hand and Agent Gibbs shook it firmly if awkwardly; his right hand was busy supporting the toddler.

"Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs," he said gruffly. "NCIS."

"This is one time I won't mind tangling with the feds," muttered Munch, and he nodded curtly to Agent Gibbs. "See ya, Jenny," he added, turning and briskly leaving.

Agent Gibbs turned to Jenny.

"When can I take Kelly home?" he asked shortly. "She's scared and she doesn't like hospitals."

"I was told she would be able to leave with you," Jenny hesitated as she looked towards the room. "Has something happened?" she asked.

"She's dizzy. Says her head hurts and she's going to throw up," he answered.

"Concussion," Jenny informed him. "The doctor warned she might have one. They'll give her something for it and release her to your care, I'm sure. You'll just have to keep her awake," Jenny explained.

"I know how to take care of her," he snapped at her. Jenny backed off. She reached for her notepad again and swept her pen out from behind her ear, flicking it open with her nail.

"Agent Gibbs," she said, pulling his attention back. "Can you tell me where Kelly was tonight?"

He looked at her blankly for a minute.

"Kelly's a ballet-reena!" said Elizabeth randomly.

"Swan Lake," muttered Agent Gibbs in return. "She was at the performance center for a ballet recital, a younger version of Swan Lake. She had a lead role, and I couldn't be there, I had to stay home and take care of Lizzy—"

"Sniffles," Elizabeth interrupted sweetly.

"Hush, Elizabeth," he ordered, and nodded distractedly. "Yeah, she came down with something this morning. Kelly was with her friend Maddie Tyler's parents. They were supposed to go out for a pizza party after the play," he said. He faltered, and shook his head. "I didn't notice how damn _late_ it was…"

Jenny nodded, scratching the details down.

"What are Maddie Tyler's parents names?" she asked.

"Daphne and Jeff," answered Agent Gibbs. "They were supposed to _watch_ her," he snarled. "She was supposed to be home at ten—if she went missing, why wouldn't they call me?"

Jenny looked up at him.

"Mr. and Mrs. Tyler will be the first people I talk to," she assured him.

He muttered something under his breath, and she was willing to bet _he'd_ be the first one talking to the Tylers if he could help it. Elizabeth squirmed in his grip and put her thumb in her mouth, looking at Jenny brightly. She sniffled and wrinkled her nose. Agent Gibbs rubbed her back comfortingly.

"Were you aware Kelly was absent from the pizza party?"

"No," he snapped. "_No_, do you think I'd have been sitting at home if I knew she was _missing_?" he demanded fiercely. "Dammit, I should have been there," he swore, and Jenny recognized the guilt customary to the parents of these victims. She kept silent on the words of comfort though, because they always fell short of soothing.

"Agent Gibbs, can you think of anyone who might have wanted to hurt Kelly?"

"You tell me who wants to rape an eight-year-old," he fired back angrily.

Elizabeth flinched. She pulled her thumb out of her mouth.

"No yell, Daddy," she said quietly. He looked down at her and frowned, softening his look and patting her head gently. She cuddled back up to him and he sighed in frustration, lowering his voice with quiet restraint again.

"I can't answer that," Jenny said. "I ask myself that question every day," she added tersely, reminding him that she wasn't any more accustomed to this than he was despite her experience with it. "There is no one you've arrested or pissed off with a vendetta against you?"

"I keep my work and my personal life separate," he said roughly. "But I can get my partner to make a list of men I've arrested in my time at NCIS and let you run DNA matches. I don't have a history of arrestees involved in sex crimes."

Jenny nodded.

"Good. That's more than helpful," she said, running her thumb over the tip of her pen. Black ink smeared across her finger tip and she ignored it. It was her trademark; hands smeared with ink because she constantly wrote on her hands or messed with her pens.

Elizabeth yawned and sat up again, twisting and reaching for Jenny. She placed her small hands on Jenny's shoulder.

"Hug?" she asked.

"Lizzy," Agent Gibbs said warningly.

"She's okay," Jenny assured him, smiling at the little girl and taking her from Agent Gibbs' without a second thought. He looked at them warily and Jenny transferred Elizabeth to her hip, reaching out to twirl a finger around a pigtail playfully. "She's friendly," she remarked.

"She likes women," Agent Gibbs answered tiredly.

Jenny nodded, and looked up at him from Elizabeth. She lowered her voice.

"Kelly said her mother died?" she probed.

He looked at her dully and then nodded, almost reluctantly.

"Kelly was six. Elizabeth was barely three months."

"That's tough," Jenny muttered after a few moments. She turned as she saw the nurse coming out of Kelly's room again.

"Mr. Gibbs," she began. "Kelly's feeling better. She's still a little sick but she'll be okay. Dr. Gelfand feels comfortable letting her go home if Detective Shepard is finished speaking with her."

Agent Gibbs nodded to the nurse and turned on Jenny. She blinked unexpectedly as the nurse excused herself and hurried off. Elizabeth sniffled again and covered her mouth with her hand. She coughed and wrinkled her nose.

"Sick," she informed Jenny. "Did I make Kelly sick?"

"Detective?" Agent Gibbs asked curtly.

"I don't see the point in putting her through the wringer tonight," Jenny said neutrally. "I have to ask you to bring her by the station first thing in the morning, though. You know it's easier that way, we're more likely to solve—"

"In the first forty-eight hours," he finished in a mutter. "Yeah," he sounded like he didn't at all like the idea of making Kelly talk or even think about what had happened.

"How can I reach you if I need her before then?" asked Jenny.

He reached into his pocket and pulled a card with his numbers from his wallet.

"You'll be at work?" she asked.

"No. I'll be with her," he said, tapping the cell phone number instead. He hesitated. He seemed to be at a loss for what to do. He turned, starting towards Kelly's room. Jenny shifted her weight, watching him go. Until she realized he was forgetting something.

"Um," murmured Elizabeth. "Daddy go bye-bye?" she asked, her eyes widening.

"Oh," said Jenny softly. "Agent Gibbs!"

He turned around and spotted Elizabeth, hurrying forward to take her immediately. There was a wounded look in his eye as she reached for him, smiling sweetly. Jenny was careful to make sure he had her before she let go. She rested her hand on his shoulder firmly, forcing him to pause and look at her.

"She won't sleep tonight," she warned helpfully. "She'll cry. You have to be there for her, Agent Gibbs."

Jethro looked at her harshly, his eyes and muscle still rigid with that lost, pent up anger she knew very well.

"Jethro," he grunted, meeting her eyes with a nod.

She returned the offer of good will by reaching out and touching his shoulder comfortingly.

"Jenny," she said, even though her name was already known to him.

Elizabeth peeked at her over his shoulder and reached out, pointing her tiny hand at Jenny's necklace.

"Pretty!" she said. "Flower!"

Jenny absently reached up and touched the necklace she always wore as she watched him return to Kelly, running her thumb over the cool crystal-and-amethyst orchid pendant at her throat with the strong feeling of empathy tugging at her emotions.


	3. The Third

_A/N: The case in this fic is meant to be somewhat straightforward ("slam dunk"). I wanted to focus on characters more than court/case specifics. That being said, I thank you for the encouraging reviews I've gotten (and the ones that made me think). Onward with the storytelling._

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**Saturday December 4th 1993. Washington DC 14th Precinct; SVU. 9:46 am. **

Jenny Shepard whipped her car into the parking garage the next morning and thrust her sunglasses into the passenger seat before she got out, cursing the sun for daring to show its face in such icy winter weather.

She snatched her espresso from the cup holder and kicked her door shut, marching into the precinct ready to start the day. Her flat boots echoed around the concrete walls and she was glad to hear that noise stop when she stepped in the elevator and went up to the office level.

Washington DC's Special Victims Unit was alive with activity.

"Good morning, Jenny," said Elliot Stabler, falling into step next to her as she stormed off the elevator.

"Depends on who you ask," she fired back, transferring her coffee cup to her other hand and reaching for the file in his hands. "This the Gibbs case?"

"Yeah, and Cragen's pretty pissed about it too. He's been fighting the feds all morning for jurisdiction."

"Dammit, I told Agent Gibbs to stay out of it!"

"Aw, c'mon, Jenny. If it were my girl, I'd fight tooth and nail for the lead," Stabler protested defensively.

"And you wouldn't get it," she snapped back, dropping the file on her desk and flicking it open. A copy of Kelly Gibbs' military ID stared up at her. She took a drink of espresso and then looked up, her eyes scanning the area.

"Munch," she said sharply.

"Jeff Tyler is on his way down, but his wife and little girl aren't coming until after the mother talks to the kid," Munch responded promptly.

"Good. Forensics come back with anything yet?"

"Jesus Christ, Shepard, who put you in charge?" grumbled Odafin Tutuola, as he brushed past her, carrying his own coffee and a stack of files.

"She's territorial," remarked Munch unconcernedly. He looked over to Benson. "Liv's got the report."

Jenny turned to her and Benson held up her hand, speaking rapidly on the phone. Jenny marched over and took the file, just as Benson hung up and stood to meet her. Jenny flicked open the forensics report swiftly.

"They got _nothing_?" she asked incredulously. She narrowed her eyes and examined the evidence and stopped, her jaw tightening. "No…" she muttered, looking at the results. "The DNA matches _open_ cases?"

"No concrete matches, huh-uh," Benson answered dully. "The DNA hit in the system for juvenile file that we can't open without a court order, and one cold case from about three years ago. The girl in that case ended up dead. This guy leaves all this evidence and we get nothin'."

Jenny swore under her breath. It was stupid to hope it would be that easy. Yet it didn't seem fair to get that much evidence and no hardcore identity. Someone that sloppy had to have been caught in previous acts; it seemed laughable that he'd gotten in the system and yet hadn't been apprehended.

"Has anyone been in touch with Agent Gibbs this morning?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah, made a call about seven to make sure he was coming in. He said Kelly wasn't feeling good and he'd bring her in about ten."

"Call him again," Jenny muttered, turning away from Benson's answer. "What about Alex, anyone get a hold of her?"

"She's leaving court, she'll be here in twenty minutes" the commotion around the office dwindled a little as Captain Donald Cragen waded into the midst of them and spoke up. He crooked his finger at Jenny. "My office," he said.

Munch whistled at her like a kid whose friend had been called to the principal's office and she rolled her eyes, taking her coffee cup with her as she followed her boss. He shut the door behind her and turned his back to it, sighing heavily.

"NCIS fought for jurisdiction," he said.

"I warned Agent Gibbs that he was sorely mistaken if he thought we'd give him this case," Jenny said sharply. "And it wasn't just a pissing match, Captain, I swear. I don't want the investigation compromised because he's emotionally involved!"

"I wasn't about to jump down your throat, Jenny, so take a breath before you jump down mine," Cragen said, wary of her temper. "I explained that to the agent who called, a Mike Franks. He still fought me but he backed off. I did agree to allow them a copy of all our findings, forensic and otherwise."

"Fine," Jenny agreed tersely.

"And I'm giving you the lead on this one, Shepard," Cragen added.

She blinked at him. She lifted her shoulders and her eyebrows, taking a slow drink of her coffee.

"Any super special reason?" she asked sarcastically, caught off guard. She was a pro at dealing with the victims, but Cragen made it no secret that he thought she was too hotheaded and too vigilante-esque to work directly on the cases.

Cragen gave her a look at the attitude.

"Request of Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs," he said, moving away from the door and indicating she was free to go. Jenny pressed her lips together, nodded, and left, slamming Cragen's office door behind her.

"This place is a pigsty," she heard Benson shout distastefully.

"Whose pizza is this? Stabler, get your damn midnight snack off my desk—" Fin snapped, thrusting a Dominos' pizza box playfully at Elliot.

"Oy, Munch, get that stupid fedora off your head," Jenny ordered, reaching up and flicking it with a small smirk.

"You think he'll listen to you because you speak his native Hebrew?" snorted Stabler.

"Nah, he's gotta listen 'cause Cragen just put me in charge," she whipped back. It earned her a bit of silence. Munch whipped his hat off of his head and put it over his heart mockingly.

"So the pupil becomes the teacher," he said ironically.

Jenny rolled her eyes.

"It brings a tear to your eye, does it?" she asked.

"Only a tear of distress."

She punched him in the shoulder good-naturedly.

"Hey, don't hurt 'im," Fin defended. "He's old."

"Enough playing," Jenny shouted, perching on the edge of her desk and drawing Kelly Gibbs' thin file into her lap. "We've got Jeff Tyler coming in to talk, good. Find out who else was chaperoning this little recital after party and get them in here, I wanna talk to them. Someone make a trip up to Kelley's ballet studio and have a talk with her teacher—Niklaus DiCovaggio, _La_ _Pirouette_—"

"We're on it," Benson said, jerking her head at Stabler as she jumped up and grabbed her coat.

Jenny nodded and looked up from the file.

"Did anyone call Gibbs again?"

"No answer at the house," answered Fin.

"Must be on his way," Jenny murmured. "Okay," she hopped off the desk and placed her coffee cup on top of Kelly's file. She bent over her keyboard and pulled up a few databases, intent on beginning a check into the Gibbs' past. Her phone rang.

"Shepard."

"Jeff Tyler's on his way up."

"Got it," she hung up and looked over to Fin. "You want to interview Jeff Tyler, or you want me?"

"Nah, I got 'im. You wait for the little girl, Munch said she liked you," answered Fin, hopping up and heading for the elevators. Jenny turned her head and watched for a moment as a tall man with about the same build as Agent Gibbs stepped off and Fin directed him towards an interview room. Another Marine.

"You're agitated, Jenny," Munch remarked, coming over to her desk.

Jenny snapped her fingers at a few computer keys, trying to access the file on Leroy Jethro Gibbs, or at least Kelly Gibbs' civilian records.

"A little girl's been raped. That pisses me off, John," she responded.

"Yeah, it kinda gets to us all," he said sarcastically. "But this is under your skin. What is it about the girl? She remind you of yourself?" he asked.

Jenny looked up at her mentor sharply.

"Not even close, Munch. It'd be nice if you keep your unwarranted psychobabble to yourself," she growled. He held up his hands and Jenny sighed in frustration. "It's her father," she muttered, relenting.

"Got the hots for him?" Munch teased dryly.

Jenny lifted Kelly's file and shoved it roughly into Munch's chest. She glared at him, shocked he'd even suggest such a fallacy.

"What if it were your daughter, John?" she hissed, unable to explain the palpable distress and heartache she'd seen and felt emanating from Agent Gibbs last night. John shrugged and Jenny straightened up, giving him a cold look.

"I don't have a daughter."

"Put your hat back on. It makes your constitution sweeter," she snapped. He grinned at her a little, ever able to bounce back from her serpent's tongue. Jenny glared at her computer and slammed her fist down on the space bar, annoyed that NCIS personnel was still locking her out, even after she tried her impressive hacking hand at it.

"Detective Shepard," she heard her name and looked up distractedly.

"Daddy, Jenny is _right_. _There_."

She straightened at the sound of the child's voice and looked up, meeting Jethro Gibbs' eyes instantly as she searched the space ahead of her desk. He shook off the young cop who was trying to direct him and patted Kelly's shoulder, following as she wove through the clutter of desks and detectives to reach Jenny.

"Hi, Jenny," she greeted.

"Detective," grunted Jethro, touching Kelly's shoulder admonishingly. Kelly furrowed her brow. Jenny smiled at her.

"Nah, just Jenny," she corrected. "'Detective' makes me feel old," she added good-naturedly.

She smiled at Kelly and looked her over. The kid wore jeans, Birkenstocks, and a blue oxford button down with pink and purple stripes on it. She had a yellow sweater pulled over it an unbuttoned, and a matching scarf and gloves set of lime green. Very colourful. Very normal.

That bruise was more pronounced on her cheek though, hidden partially by her thick auburn hair. It was a reminder that Kelly was probably not going to feel normal ever again.

"It's messy in here," Kelly remarked quietly, looking around at all the papers and general disarray. Her father still hadn't said a word, but he looked a little disbelieving that of all things, his daughter had just chosen to comment on the state of the precinct's cleanliness.

Jenny laughed.

"Yeah, I don't like it either. But I work with a bunch of men, and you know, they leave stuff everywhere," she said, picking up her coffee cup casually. Kelly smiled at her joke. "Want to go somewhere cleaner?" she asked.

"Yes," Kelly said. She moved away from her dad a little and tugged her gloves, holding them in her hands when they had been removed. She rubbed her hands together and looked at Jenny expectantly.

Jenny smiled and put her hand behind Kelly's shoulders gently, nodding her head in the opposite direction to indicate Agent Gibbs should follow as she started to steer Kelly in the direction of one of the more benign interview rooms.

One with brighter colours and more comfortable chairs.

Jenny opened the door and let Kelly and her father go in. She left the door open for the moment; she wasn't willing to begin until Cabot was able to witness the statements. Technically, to take an official statement the prosecutor wasn't a necessary witness, but Jenny liked to play things more than safe. Kelly reached for one of the chairs and hesitated, looking at the bean bags in the corner.

"I'd rather sit in one of those," Jenny said, giving Kelly's chosen chair a look and then pointing to the colourful bags.

"Can I?" Kelly asked, looking from Jenny to her father.

"Yep, sure thing. And hey, you must be cold if you've been outside. Are you a fan of hot chocolate?" Jenny asked.

Kelly nodded eagerly.

"Cool," Jenny said. "Because I make the best," she said secretively. She turned to Agent Gibbs. "Coffee, black?" she guessed rather confidently. He nodded, remaining standing rigidly even though there were plenty of places to sit.

Jenny slipped out, making her way back into the squad room to mix up some of the hot chocolate for Kelly. She was reluctant to offer Agent Gibbs any of the half-assed swill they called coffee from her office, but she did, figuring she'd make it up to him later.

Jenny looked up at the clock as she listened to the water brew and messed around with the package of Ghirardelli hot chocolate mix she kept hidden for the kids. She bit her lip, tapping her foot urgently as if it would hurry Cabot's progress from the courthouse.

"That for me?" asked Munch, peering over her shoulder.

She swatted him away.

"You still have those peppermints in your desk, right?" she asked.

Munch wrenched open his top drawer and unfurled a bag of them, tossing her a few so she could drop them in the hot chocolate when it was finished. She used her nail to rend the crackling package open and Munch sat down at his desk, picking up his phone.

"I think Jeff Tyler's been able to fill in some gaps, but I'll let you get Kelly's statement first to see if it matches up, then we can pick apart discrepancies," he muttered dialing a number, "Cabot's here," he added, nodding towards the composed blonde breezing through the doorway, briefcase and heels in hand.

"You won't believe the morning I had," she snapped, ignoring the disgusting state of the precinct floor as she barefooted across it. "Judge Petrovsky let Bradley Caldwell off on a technicality, and he's right back in that house molesting that little boy," she growled, thrusting her briefcase down on Jenny's desk. Her shoes followed suit.

"Need a replacement pair?" Jenny asked, swooping down on her bottom locked desk drawer and retrieving a pair of black pumps. Alex Cabot thanked her with a smirk and Munch shook his head, rolling his eyes.

"Tell me you can cheer me up, Jenny," she asked.

"I've got an eight-year-old rape victim ready to give a statement," Jenny said.

Alex sighed and straightened up, testing out Jenny's heels for balance. This wasn't the first time their identical shoe size had saved entire outfits from failing.

"All right. Lead on," Alex said, and Jenny returned to the coffee station.

"Not so fast, my friend," she said, checking the capping the coffee and reaching in the cabinet above the coffee station to find a clean mug for Kelly's hot chocolate. She situated it, peppermints and all, and turned, holding them up. "We mustn't go in empty-handed."

Alex smiled and fell into step by Jenny as they headed for the interview room.

"Cragen said something about the feds muscling in?"

"Yeah, the little girl—Kelly, her name is—her father's an agent with NCIS. Ex-marine. And he's pissed," Jenny explained.

"Who wouldn't be?" Alex asked breathlessly, catching the door for Jenny and mustering a friendly smile to her face for the meeting with Kelly.

Jenny handed the Styrofoam cup of coffee off to Agent Gibbs and then presented the hot chocolate mug gallantly to Kelly, who scooted up in her bean bag and took it with a very soft 'thank you'.

"You're welcome, hon," Jenny said. "I put something extra in there, but it's a secret."

Kelly took a sip.

"Peppermint," she said promptly. "And cinnamon," she added thoughtfully.

"I'm impressed," Jenny said, lifting her brows. She gestured her hand towards Alex and Alex came forward slowly. "I know you've met like, a thousand people in the past twelve hours, but I've managed to find someone else. This is my friend Alex Cabot, she's a prosecutor," Jenny paused to make sure Kelly was listening intently and understanding. "She wants to help me catch the person who hurt you."

"You are a lawyer?" Kelly asked quietly.

Alex nodded.

"Daddy _hates_ lawyers," Kelly informed her. Jenny laughed outright. She turned and looked at Agent Gibbs, who had the good grace to look at least a little perturbed by the comment.

"He won't hate me," Alex assured Kelly, and Kelly sipped her hot chocolate, looking skeptical. "Because I don't deal," Alex said, turning to look at Agent Gibbs meaningfully. He gave her a short nod, and she reached out to shake his hand.

"Alex Cabot, ADA," she murmured.

Jenny listened to Jethro mutter yet another introduction and turned back to Kelly, throwing herself down on a beanbag next to the girl. Kelly smiled into her cup and watched Jenny apprehensively.

"You know why you had to come to the station, Kelly?" Jenny asked cautiously.

"Yes," she said quietly. "Daddy said I have to tell you what happened."

Jenny nodded.

"Did you already tell him?" she asked.

Kelly nodded slowly.

"He let me stay up and watch movies, and I had to tell him after he got Lizzy to go to sleep," she explained.

"That's good, because it gets much easier to talk about the second time," Jenny said gently. "Where is your sister today?" she asked conversationally. She kept one ear open for Alex and Agent Gibb's muted conversation.

"Umm, she's staying with Abby. She feels better. Daddy said she had a cold."

"Who is Abby?"

Kelly brightened a little.

"She works with Daddy. She wears all black and sings a lot. She's always happy, too," she said, taking another sip of her hot chocolate. Both of her small hands were cradling the cup comfortingly.

Jenny beamed.

"Do you feel comfortable talking to me about what happened?" she ventured. Kelly nodded silently. Jenny leaned back and looked over at Kelly, sharing a friendly look. Alex cleared her throat and Jenny looked up, meeting the prosecutor's expectant look. She stood up fluidly.

"She's ready to talk," Jenny said, turning to Agent Gibbs. "Jethro, you can stand and watch in observation with Alex while I talk to Kell—"

"Hold on," interrupted Jethro. "I'm not leaving her," he insisted.

"I have to ask you to leave. She might not be able to focus as well if you're in the room—"

"She's a minor. You can't talk to her without my consent or out of my presence, and she doesn't like being alone!" he growled.

"She won't be alone," Jenny said firmly. "And that rule on minors doesn't apply to victims. I have the right to speak to her alone."

"Detective Shepard is correct, Agent Gibbs," Alex said in her cool, steady voice.

His jaw tightened considerably and he looked between them, and over at Kelly. Jenny could tell the last thing he wanted to do was leave her to the mercy of an unfamiliar woman in an unfamiliar place.

"I want to help her, Jethro," Jenny said gently, catching his eye pointedly.

He shook Alex and Jenny off and stepped back, raising his hand to his face briefly. He turned to Kelly and looked down at her softly.

"I'll be right outside, Kel," he said gruffly.

She paused, looking at him over the rim of her mug.

"Why won't you stay?" she asked him.

Jenny moved over to Kelly and stood by the beanbag, picking up her coffee cup from the table as she went.

"He wants to, Kelly, but I won't let him. I have to follow some rules, okay?" she asked gently.

Kelly looked at them both.

"Okay," she said softly.

Jethro crouched down in front of her.

"I'll be outside that glass behind me, Kel. I'll be looking right at you. You don't have to be scared, just tell Jenny what you told me," he said coaxingly.

"I'm not scared," Kelly muttered, looking down into her cup.

Jethro smirked. He reached out, ruffled her wavy auburn hair, and straightened, giving Jenny a sharp look as he brushed past her and then Alex. Alex gave Jenny a nod as she followed him out, pulling to door to.

Alone at last, though acutely aware she was being watched, Jenny flopped back down casually to the bean bag next to Kelly. She cradled her own coffee cup like Kelly did her hot chocolate. She figured they could start at the beginning, and she'd see how Kelly handled it.

"So, your Dad said you had a lead role in your ballet recital last night?" she probed.

Kelly nodded, and rested her mug on her bent knees.

"I got to be Odette in Swan Lake," she said, and Jenny smiled proudly. "Daddy was really proud of me, except then he couldn't come because Lizzy got sick, and Lizzy is clingy anyway so I said he should stay with her and Maddie's mom said they could take lots of pictures for him. I still think Daddy was sad though, even if he pretended he wasn't," Kelly said clearly. She was good at speaking to adults, Jenny could tell that much.

"I think so too," Jenny agreed. "I bet he really wanted to see you," she said.

Kelly shrugged.

"It's okay, he can see the video! And also I would rather he stay with Lizzy so she isn't scared and doesn't cry," she said nicely.

Jenny's heart skipped at the selfless declaration. She shifted towards Kelly, bringing her knees up a little, and drank her coffee.

"There was a pizza party after the recital?" she asked.

"It was at Pepperoni Pete's," Kelly murmured. "It was for all of us who were in the recital to celebrate, and Maddie's parents were taking me and then Ms. Tyler said she'd ask if I could sleep over. I wasn't hungry so Maddie and I shared a Sunday," she said quietly.

"Strawberry?"

"Yuck," Kelly said, shaking her head. "Banana split," she corrected. Jenny smiled wryly.

"Definitely better," she whispered. Kelly nodded and smiled a little. "What happened next?"

Kelly's brow furrowed. She tapped her finger against the side of her mug.

"I don't know," she said softly, her lip trembling a little.

"You don't remember?" prompted Jenny.

She shook her head.

"Sort of," she murmured, looking up at Jenny with wide eyes. "I was waiting for one of the boys to try and beat my high score in the arcade—and he wasn't doing very well, because he doesn't know how to use the controls like me—and Mr. DiCovaggio asked me and Maddie to go get our tiaras and tutus so he could get a picture, but Maddie was in the middle of a game, so I just went by myself even though," Kelly paused. "I'm not supposed to walk around alone, but it was just out to the car, so I did it anyway," she defended hesitantly, glancing at the glass where she knew Jethro was watching her. "I put my tiara on, and grabbed Maddie's, and then I hit my head."

Jenny nodded, looking at her encouragingly.

"Don't worry, Kelly, no one's mad at you. Did you fall and hit your head?"

"No…" Kelly trailed off, her face screwing up to remember. "Someone pushed me and I fell and scraped my knee. And I dropped my ballet bag, too, because I was holding it to get the tiaras out. I felt really dizzy, but the he grabbed me and started dragging me,and the bag too, so I tried to walk, because it was hurting my knees when I struggled," she broke off and her voice got very small and very quiet. "I thought it was Maddie's dad or mom, until he yelled at me to shut-up." she said.

"Do you think it might have been?" asked Jenny gently.

"_No_," Kelly said firmly. "Mr. Tyler and Mrs. Tyler love me. They wouldn't hurt me, ever," she said seriously. "I tried to pull away and that's when the man yelled at me, and he didn't sound like Mr. Tyler at all. He was too mean and soft."

"Soft?" Jenny asked, furrowing her brow.

"Soft, like a girl? No, soft like…a snake. Creepy. Daddy and Mr. Tyler are loud and growly, like bears. Because they're marines," she murmured. Jenny smiled, thinking of how accurate Kelly's description of her father's voice was.

"Did this man take you far?" Jenny asked.

Kelly stayed quiet. She ran her finger around the rim of her mug and then took a sip, licking her lips slowly. She leaned back and looked like she didn't know what to do with the mug. Jenny shifted and held out her hands helpfully to take it and Kelly handed it to her. She folded her hands in her lap.

"I don't know," she said. "He covered my mouth and pushed me and I kept falling down. And it got really dark and I couldn't see at all, and then he pushed me into a wall—in the alley, because the stones were rough and scrapey," Kelly held up her arms and showed Jenny the raw marks on her wrists.

Jenny reached out and touched Kelly's wrists comfortingly. Kelly looked at her for a minute, and then looked up at the glass where she was sure her dad could see her, her mouth moving silently. She blinked her eyes a few times and Jenny sat up a little more.

"Look at me, Kelly," she said, drawing the little girl's attention to her. Kelly's big, liquid blue eyes met hers. "He can't hurt you, remember? Me and Daddy aren't gonna let him. You're _safe_."

Kelly nodded and took a deep breath.

"He broke my tiara, he yanked it off and smashed it, and I started to cry. I told him to stop hurting me and jerked away but he grabbed me and pushed me on the ground and kicked me in the ribs, so I hid my head like you're supposed to in a tornado drill and screamed for help," she said, her voice quivering, "He said bad things to me, like to shut-up, and called me bad names," she whispered.

"What bad things?" Jenny asked gently.

"I can't say them, I'm not allowed," Kelly said with a shake of her head, glancing at the window and thus towards Jethro apprehensively. Jenny reached out and squeezed her hand.

"You didn't tell your Daddy, did you? That he called you bad names?" Kelly shook her head negatively. Jenny made a face. "It's okay to tell me, Kelly. You won't get in trouble, he will."

She stayed quiet.

"Stupid," she said finally. "And bitch," she added in a soft, frightened whisper. Jenny squeezed her hand again and then pulled it into her lap. She furrowed her brow. "I didn't understand the others, but they sounded bad—you know how words can sound bad? He started touching me, and called me a word that started with a 'c', I think," her mouth trembled.

Jenny nodded, biting on her tongue.

"I know it's hard, Kelly," she said soothingly. "Squeeze my hand when you get scared, okay? And I'll squeeze back, and then you can keep going so Alex can hear what she needs to put the man who hurt you in jail."

Kelly nodded, curling up and turning towards Jenny a little. Her eyes were full of tears and her mouth was shaking, but she swallowed, and Jenny let her take her time.

"He threw me up against the stones and then he shoved me down and made me lay on my back and he yanked up my dress," she whispered hoarsely. "I told him to stop and screamed again, like Daddy said. Daddy said if you tell someone to stop, they're supposed to stop," she explained, obviously confused. "He didn't, he covered my mouth and my face and I bit him but he didn't move—he hit me really hard and he got on top of me and," Kelly stopped speaking, squeezing Jenny's hand tightly.

"It hurt a lot," she whimpered, closing her eyes. Jenny's heart when out to the little auburn-haired girl and she leaned forward, placing her other hand on Kelly's shoulder. Kelly sniffled and looked at her, biting her lip. "I cried a lot and I felt like I was going to throw up and he put his hands on my neck and…he tried to give me a kiss and talk to me, and then he hit my head on the concrete and I didn't wake up until the police were there. And then you got there, and you were nice to me," she said brokenly.

"And you said you know what he did, sweetheart?" Jenny asked softly, looking at Kelly encouragingly.

"Daddy said it's called _rape_," Kelly said thickly, her words shaking. "But it's the same thing as what he said sex was, and it doesn't make sense," she sobbed. "He said you're supposed to be in love!"

Jenny sat up and shifted onto her knees in front of Kelly's bean bag, pushing her coffee cup aside. Kelly watched her and then sat up and leaned forward, hugging Jenny around the shoulders unexpectedly. Jenny, as surprised as she was, rested her hand on the back of Kelly's head and her chin on the girl's shoulder.

"Can you think of anything about him that stood out? Anything you remember?"

"He smelled, he smelled like the pizza place, and he smelled dirty, and tasted dirty when I bit him. I couldn't—I couldn't see his face because I closed my eyes a lot, but his hair was kind of long—and I remember his voice. I know voices really well I--

"His soft voice? Snaky?" Jenny probed. Kelly nodded, starting to cry a little more. She looked like she was suppressing a lot of the tears.

"He called me sweet thing and said I was too pretty to waste and kept saying I would like it in a minute, if I'd shut-up and—he kept saying 'angel' and 'sweet thing' when he was on top of me."

Jenny heard the door open behind her, and Alex gave a soft protest in her cool voice before Jethro appeared next to Jenny and swooped down next to her, effortlessly prying Kelly away and picking her up. She rested her head on his shoulder and cried and Jethro buried his face in her hair for a moment, his shoulders rigid and stiff.

"Are you satisfied?" he barked at Jenny when he lifted his head, and she could see the agony in his eyes. The muscles around his mouth and eyes were taut and tense as well, and she would bet it was from fighting to keep dry eyes. He looked winded and shell-shocked, like he'd only gotten half of that out of Kelly last night.

She didn't care how strong of a marine he was, no father could watch that and keep tears at bay.

Jenny nodded mutely, and turned to Alex. Alex nodded, agreeing that they had enough. Jenny was burning Kelly's statement into her memory, particularly what she'd said she remembered about the man who'd raped her. Kelly was still crying softly, the sound muted by Jethro's shoulder.

Jethro turned to her with livid eyes.

"Daddy," Kelly whimpered. "I don't want him to get me again."

Jethro hugged her tightly.

"No one is going to hurt you, Kelly, I swear," he promised sharply, narrowing his eyes at Jenny, silently asking if he could leave. She could see no possible way of stopping him, even if she had needed to keep them here.

She nodded, turning to Alex. Alex left the room and Jenny tilted her head, letting Jethro leave before her. She left the interview room open, catching Jethro's arm as they entered the hall, torn between allowing him to carry a crying little girl through the squad room and impeding him further in leaving.

"Let me take her home, Detective," he said warningly. "She's been through enough," he snapped.

"I understand," Jenny said sincerely. "I thought maybe—"

Jethro suddenly looked away from her; his eyes narrowed considerably and his jaw tightened. Jenny followed his gaze and saw Fin coming around the corner with the man she'd previously identified as Jeff Tyler. Kelly looked up when she felt her father stiffen.

"Mr. Tyler," she greeted in a weak voice, trying to smile.

The other man looked stricken.

"Jethro—" he began.

"How could you let her out of your sight, Jeff?" asked Jethro harshly. Kelly flinched at the elevation in volume. Jenny stepped forward. Fin halted and grabbed Jeff Tyler tightly in case fists started to fly.

"I didn't see her leave, Jethro—I swear, I'd _never_ let her go out alone if I knew!" Jeff Tyler said defensively, a pleading note to his voice. "When Maddie asked where Kelly was, we..."

"Where the hell was your training, marine? You were supposed to _watch_ her! Keep her safe!" shouted Jethro.

"Daddy, don't yell at him!" Kelly sobbed. She reached up and covered one ear and looked at Jenny pleadingly. Jenny stepped in front of Jethro.

"Jethro," she said. He shook her away violently, his eyes hard.

"I'm so sorry, Jethro. You have no idea how sorry I am," Jeff Tyler was pleading with him, and it was clear that he was horror-struck at what had happened on his watch.

"Agent Gibbs," snapped Jenny forcefully, trusting Fin to usher Jeff Tyler away while she calmed down Jethro. He looked at her finally, a muscle in his jaw jumping angrily. "It isn't his fault, Jethro," she said shortly.

"No," he growled at her. "It's mine," he barked.

Jenny deflated a little. She watched Kelly's lip tremble; she laid her head against Jethro again and shook her head.

"No it isn't," she said softly, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Listen to your daughter," Jenny said earnestly, lowering her voice.

"I should have been there," he snarled in a low voice, the guilt in his eyes so raw it made Jenny bite her lip. "She's my baby, I'm supposed to protect her," he said.

Jenny looked at him, pressing her lips together. He pushed past her finally, and she turned. Kelly shifted her head and looked up, blinking away a few stray tears. She lifted her fingers to Jenny hesitantly and Jenny waved back reassuringly. She wanted that little girl to know she had allies at this precinct.

She wished there was a way she could help Jethro, too. He had no idea what he was dealing with.

Consumed with a flash of anger suddenly, Jenny swore loudly and stormed off back into the squad room, grabbing the attention of her closest colleagues. She wrenched her phone out of its cradle and began dialing Benson's number as she gave orders.

"Run the criminal records of every employee at Pepperoni Pete's Pizzeria and get me names—when I find out what Benson and Stabler have got, we're tearing that place apart."

* * *

**Saturday December 4th 1993. Washington DC 14th Precinct; SVU. 12:19 pm.**

"Hey Maddie, my name's Olivia," Olivia Benson greeted the blonde little girl as she led her and her mother, Daphne Tyler, into the same interview room Jenny had used with Kelly two hours ago.

"Hi," Maddie said politely, climbing into a chair as her mother directed. Olivia gestured for Daphne Tyler to take a seat with her daughter and the other woman obliged.

"We're here to talk about Kelly, but it won't take long, promise. I know its super boring here," Olivia said with a smile. Maddie nodded hesitantly. Olivia glanced at Daphne Tyler and the woman nodded, resting her hand on her daughter's shoulder.

"Maddie, did you and Kelly have fun last night at the pizza party?" Olivia asked.

"Yes! We were allowed to have ice cream and stay up late and Kelly made the boys be nice to me because the boys are scared of Kelly," Maddie said brightly. Olivia smiled.

"Why are the boys scared of Kelly?" she asked interestedly.

"'Cause Kelly isn't scared of them," Maddie answered simply.

"I see," Olivia said good-naturedly. "Maddie, do you know why your mom had to bring you down here today?"

Maddie looked at her mom hesitantly and, seeming to feel comforted by her presence, nodded to Olivia.

"Kelly got hurt," she said. "I mean, someone hurt Kelly really badly."

"Yes, you're exactly right," Olivia agreed with a nod. "And we wanted to know if you saw anything that could help us find the person who hurt her and punish him. I'm going to ask you some questions now, and I want you to try real hard to remember, okay?"

Maddie nodded eagerly.

"Do you remember anyone at the party last night who upset Kelly?"

Maddie thought for a minute.

"Mr. DiCovaggio gave her a hug and said she did awesome but Kelly didn't like it because his cologne smells gross. I don't like it either and Mr. Jethro says he smells like a French whore house," she said helpfully, smiling while her mother made a noise of reprimand and rolled her eyes. Olivia nodded and wrote down what the little girl had said. "And Kelly got mad when one of the boys tried to look at her panties, but she just flicked his ear and he ran away."

Olivia smiled a little, amused at the antics of little kids.

"Good, that's good Maddie. Can you think of anyone who might have been looking at Kelly funny, or a stranger who talked to her?" Olivia asked earnestly. "Think really hard."

Maddie chewed her lip thoughtfully. Then she nodded, looking sure of herself.

"One of the teenagers in the buffet line made fun of her for wearing her tiara, and she said the register guy looked scary because he has a huge beard and motorcycle tattoos. And the one guy," she said.

"Guy?" prompted Olivia curiously.

"Mmhmm. He was the pizza guy who delivered stuff; he brought the pizza to our table and the ice cream. He said Kelly looked really cute in her costume, but when Kelly went to the arcade with Lucas and Brendon and me, she said she didn't like the way he smiled at her," Maddie explained.

Olivia wrote her words down furiously.

"What do you think she meant by that?" she asked seriously.

"Umm, I think because she said he looked like a monster when he smiled. And she said he made her stomach feel funny, like sick," added Maddie earnestly.

"Excellent, Maddie," murmured Olivia, turning to the observation glass where Alex, Jenny, and Munch were watching. She glanced at them for a moment, wondering if she were meeting any of their eyes, and then turned back to the mother and daughter.

"He talked funny, too," Maddie announced thoughtfully.

Olivia looked at her sharply.

"How so?" she asked earnestly.

"He said his 's's' like a baby. He had a retainer in his mouth, and one of the boys in our class made fun of him 'cause he said he was too old to wear those kinds of things, so the guy took it out, and maybe he talked normal after that, I don't know. But the lisp was funny."

Olivia wrote down what Maddie had said, chewing on her lip with interest. She glanced behind her and then up at Daphne, nodding thankfully.

"Did I help a lot?" Maddie asked, looking from Olivia to her mother.

"You did a great job," Olivia answered sincerely.

"I want Kelly to feel better," Maddie said quietly. Olivia smiled at her encouragingly and then looked up to Daphne Tyler, changing her voice to fit a more adult conversation.

"Do you remember anything like that, or can you think of anything at all that would help us?" she asked. Daphne Tyler sighed, her eyes moist as she shook her head.

"There were so many kids and so much noise, Detective," she said dejectedly. "I remember the guy Maddie's talking about, he challenged the kids a little to some games in the arcade, but I don't remember him looking at Kelly. Maddie doesn't make things up though," she added offhandedly, reaching out to rub Maddie's shoulder.

"Mommy, can we get ice cream now?" Maddie asked.

"If the detective is done asking us questions," Daphne soothed, hugging her purse as she looked at Olivia. Olivia nodded, standing up, and Daphne followed suit. Maddie hopped out of her chair, her ponytail swinging, and she smiled at Olivia, chewing on her bottom lip.

"My dad said that if I told the truth, then you would catch the person who hurt Kelly and he would go to jail," she said.

Olivia nodded.

"That's what we're trying to do," she assured her. Daphne put her arm around Maddie's shoulders and led her out, followed by Olivia.

"Don't try," Maddie said seriously. "Do it."

Olivia smiled as she watched them go and then let her smile fade as she entered observation where her colleagues stood, and Jenny looked livid.

"That give us any ideas?" Olivia asked.

"Stabler was pretty suspicious of the drama teacher, Niklaus DiCovaggio?" Munch said. "Sounds like he's touchy-feely with the kids," he muttered.

"He was," Benson agreed slowly. "He hugs, pats on the head, helps them with stretches—then again, he's a ballet teacher. And he talks a little sweet, feminine and gentle, which sort of goes along with Kelly Gibbs saying he had a 'soft voice'."

"It wasn't him," Jenny said shortly.

"What makes you say that?" asked Alex seriously.

"My gut. Kelly Gibbs. She said she would recognize the voice. If it were DiCovaggio, she'd tell us off the bat, she worked with him every day. But that's no reason to rule him out, I suppose, and we have to be thorough. Can you get a court order for his DNA sample, based on that?" Jenny asked.

"It's a stretch, in some judge's eyes, but I'll do it," Alex agreed.

"Keep it quiet," Munch suggested. "No reason to lose him his job if he's clear."

"Well, there's no reason for him to be hugging little girls all the time," Benson fired back stiffly. "Maybe he needs to search for another occupation. I'll run a background check though, canvass his past, see what his history's like."

Munch rolled his eyes and Jenny looked between them, ignoring the snipping.

"Bring him in for a harsher round of questioning," Alex decided.

"Liv, did DiCovaggio say anything about the pizzeria? He notice anyone looking at Kelly, talking to her?" Jenny asked thoughtfully.

She shook her head.

"Elliot and I didn't ask him much about it, though. El got suspicious of him and started grilling," she said. Jenny nodded, thinking of the employees they'd screened at the pizzeria that day. "Look," Benson said hesitantly, "We've checked the Pizzeria, yeah, and I know next up you're wanting to look at credit card receipts to question the customers, since we think Kelly would have told us if it was an employee who she'd spoke to—"

"Yeah, since she says she'd know the voice," said Munch.

Benson nodded.

"Right, but Maddie Tyler claimed this '_guy'_ who creeped Kelly out talked differently until he took out a retainer. So we've got both girls saying he talked 'funny', and they'd recognize it, and maybe that's the key. Maybe Kelly was raped by an employee, she didn't recognize the voice, though, 'cause he'd removed the retainer to disguise it."

Jenny stiffened a little and narrowed her eyes, watching Benson sharply.

"Maddie Tyler said this guy had a retainer, the one she thought looked at Kelly funny?" she asked to clarify. Benson nodded.

"What're you thinkin', Jenny?" asked Munch, eyeing his partner's sharp look intently.

"I'm thinkin' about a soft-voiced delivery boy we interviewed at Pepperoni Pete's who seemed harmless because of his _lisp_," she growled.

"The sweet little one," Munch said suddenly, perking up.

"The one we probably tipped off," Jenny growled, beginning to exit the room. "We were busy looking for a damn oily-voiced bastard!"

She and Munch went purposefully through the squad room, reading each other's thoughts and grabbing coats and badges and weapons as they went. Something was telling her the guy had already hit the road, but as she ordered her colleagues to put out a wanted tag on him just in case; she swore she wouldn't let him get far.


	4. The Fourth

_A/N: I introduce Anthony DiNozzo in this chapter and mention Abby Sciuto. They are included in the story marginally and f or comic relief, so that time-line is a bit skewed. Tony iss particularly green at NCIS and Abby is still, as always, the darling. _

_Question: Do any of you realize how hard it is to type with a fucked up 's' key on the keyboard? *grumbles*._

**

* * *

**

**Sunday December 5th 1993. Apartment of Pizzeria Delivery Boy Logan Grey. 9:16 am. **

"Son of a _bitch_!"

Jenny Shepard crumpled the search warrant in her hand violently and chucked it across Logan Grey's apartment, turning and ramming her fist into the wall and letting her frustration boil over at finding the place empty.

She holstered her weapon.

Yesterday, when she and Munch had returned to the pizzeria to question Logan Grey, the delivery boy who Maddie had mentioned, again he'd been gone. The manager had declared he up and left moments after the police did, which was enough of a sign for Jenny and for a judge, as it turned out.

Alex had secured a warrant for his apartment after they got the address from the pizzeria manager. They had spent the night questioning his colleagues, trying to find friends and family, and building a profile of his past, which seemed oddly clean and boring. They were pushing hard on the case while it was hot and they had a chance of closing it.

And now, she thought, he might get away and she was _pissed_.

"Detective," called one of her back-up, appearing from a separate room.

Jenny marched up to him and he held out something to her. She turned up her palm and into it he dropped a butterfly barrette, matching the one that CSU had found strewn on the pavement near the initial crime scene.

Jenny clutched it in her palm, gritting her teeth. It was noon. She had sent copies of findings to NCIS last night and had spoken to a member of Jethro's team, Mike Franks. Cautiously, she had told him where their leads were going. NCIS, according to Franks, had immediately put out something called a 'bolo' to alert the surrounding area.

They had called credit companies and frozen accounts in the name of the guy.

She had called Jethro to ask if Kelly could be counted on to indentify a voice if they caught Logan Grey, and Jethro, after agreeing, had grilled her on the details, his voice even through the phone raw and angry and frightening.

Now she'd have to make the call that they couldn't find him.

* * *

**Sunday December 5th 1993. Washington DC 14th Precinct; SVU. 2:25 pm.**

"Breathe, Shepard," Fin ordered, walking by her desk and dropping a late lunch on it.

She growled at him in response, attempting to rip out her hair.

Her phone was dead silent. Logan Grey's picture was plastered all over the city, on the news, everyone was on alert, NCIS had bolos out—which stood for 'be on the lookout, she'd been informed— and _nothing_. How could a dirty, burly uneducated delivery boy hide from them like this?

"He had such a soft, crawly voice," Jenny muttered. "It should have tipped me off."

"Oh, god, quit being a martyr," groaned Munch. "This isn't your fault."

She slammed her palm down on her desk. The phone in front of her rang.

"Shepard!" she barked into it when she answered.

"Detective Shepard, this is dispatch 901—Logan Grey spotted en route to College Park, Maryland blue metro line--"

Jenny slammed the phone down before she could hear the rest and jammed her gun into the holster, whipping her cell phone out of her pocket.

"Munch, Fin," she barked, jerking her head towards the elevator. "Maryland dispatch might have him," she growled, slamming her finger against the elevator down button and pressing harshly the numbers on her cell phone.

"Franks," the voice answered gruffly, moments later.

She repeated to him what she'd just been told. She thought NCIS had a right to be there on this collar.

* * *

**Sunday December 5th 1993. College Park, Maryland Metro Station. 2:56 pm.**

Jenny wasn't sure if NCIS had faster cars or crazier drivers, but they arrived at the Maryland metro center before she and her people did, and neither group was making small business of flashing lights and sirens.

"You sure your Intel's right, lady?" asked a scraggly, gruff looking man as he stormed up to Jenny. She gave him a withering look.

"Maryland PD's Intel, not mine," she snapped back, resting her hand on her weapon. "Though I'd rather take a look myself than waste time, hmm?"

He eyed her suspiciously.

"Franks," shouted Jethro, and Jenny looked over, thinking she saw him roll his eyes a little. Munch and Fin were slamming patrol car doors as they got out and joined the two NCIS agents and their fellow detective.

"You shouldn't have called them, Jenny," said Munch harshly.

"The hell she shouldn't have!" the man who must be Mike Franks bellowed back.

Munch bristled instantly and Fin, rolling his eyes at the drama, prepared to placate. Jenny tightened her mouth at the immaturity of jurisdiction.

"This isn't the time for a pissing match," she growled, almost under her breath, and slipped away, her badge ready in her hand to flash at the metro station's metal detectors. She saw Jethro follow her lead out of the corner of her eye.

"How's your little girl?" Jenny asked.

"Tired," he answered curtly, implying she wasn't sleeping at all.

Jenny bit the inside of her cheek hard and narrowed her eyes, pushing up sunglasses as she entered the metro building.

"Blue line," she said under her breath, gesturing.

Just inside the metal detectors and ticket machines, one of the directors in a day-glo orange vest, spotted Frank's zipped up, NCIS windbreaker and waved them over subtly.

"My supervisor called it into dispatch, but we didn't alert him. He's on his way to platform nine, but he's weaving around—"

Jenny nodded, moving away. She heard Franks repeating to Jethro what had been said, and gave a silent order to Fin and Munch to split up in an opposite direction. She pointed at Jethro and jerked her thumb towards herself, indicating he stay with her. There was no way she'd let him off alone and be responsible for a bloodbath if he found Grey first.

He fell into step next to her, and she could feel the anger and the hatred emanating from him, cold and foreboding. She swallowed hard, even more motivated to lock this bastard behind bars with Jethro there next to her as a living reminder of the hurt he'd wrought.

She watched the trains arrive methodically, her eyes on the exits and the mass of people crowding the platform. Until a swift, jerky, deer-in-the-headlights movement caught her peripheral vision and she turned. She saw him. Looking at her, because he recognized her. And for a split second she let him look at her, letting him read his fate in her hard, condemning eyes.

Then her gun was in her hands.

"GREY!" she bellowed. "STOP, POLICE."

Jethro didn't even bother to announce himself. He went after the guy, which was all as well, because as soon as Jenny had shouted, Logan Grey had tried to make a run for it. Jenny took off after both of them, determined to stop Jethro doing anything rash that would take him away from his girls.

"Out of the way, move!" she shouted to the unaware, milling occupants of the metro station.

They murmured and cried out in surprise as she and Jethro barreled through, and suddenly, Logan Grey had led them into a corridor with two flights of stairs. He paused in the middle. Jethro raised his gun and Jenny winced, recognizing the aim of a man with deadly precision.

But Logan Grey jerked to the side at the sight of the weapon.

"Don't move," Jethro growled.

Logan Grey lurched forward, and Jenny leapt at him, holstering her weapon and skipping down a few steps to grab him by the hands and the scruff of the neck. He kicked out at her knee and caught her in the ankle, knocking her feet from her.

"Bitch!" he shouted, leaning down to bite her. He kicked again, but she refused to let go, tightening her grip on his neck and yanking his hand behind his back. She stumbled.

Jenny lost her balance, but managed not to completely fall down the stairs. It was more of a trip, but she fell hard once they reached the landing, and then swung her body around and shoved Logan Grey's face into the concrete, her knee digging into his spine.

She tasted blood in her mouth, and wiped the coppery red gush from her busted lip with the back of her hand, pursing her lips.

Then, in a moment that happened too fast and too slow at the same time, Grey lashed out with his foot and kicked her hard in the thigh and almost bucked her off of him. Jenny cursed loudly and the next thing she knew, Jethro had his gun pressed hard into Grey's temple, and his hand was not the slightest bit hesitant on the trigger. She snapped her eyes on him.

"Don't you dare, he's down," she barked, shoving his hand away, desperate to prevent him pulling that trigger and ruining the chances of a clean case.

She focused all of her attention on Grey.

"You're under arrest," she snarled, yanking cuffs from her pocket and forcing them onto him violently. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and you bet your ass will be used against you in a court of law…"

* * *

**Sunday December 5th 1993. Washington DC 14th Precinct; SVU. 3:23 pm. **

Logan Grey was cuffed to his chair in interrogation.

Jenny stood staring through the glass. Alex Cabot was next to her, and Mike Franks was on her other side. Jethro was in the room somewhere. Her eyes were glass as she stared ahead. Her knees and her head throbbed from the scuffle he'd caused. She hadn't yet wiped the blood from her lip.

"He doesn't deserve a lawyer," she said in a low voice.

"We have to wait," Alex said.

Jenny swore under her breath.

He sat there, staring. Looking blank. He was a big guy, with awful teeth, badly dressed, bad hair, and he did have that soft, oily voice—but it didn't seem to fit him. Jenny clenched her fists.

She turned away. Her eyes met Jethro's. He was far away from the glass, at the opposite wall, restrained.

"I told you it wasn't a matter of 'if'," she growled.

He looked at her sharply.

He moved closer, and lowered his voice, keeping it hidden from the others.

"I told you I wanted him dead," he hissed. "He hit you. He resisted arrest. He gave me a reason. You stopped me," he growled.

Jenny swallowed. She had. She had wrenched his gun away from him when he'd pressed it to Logab Grey's temple, and then the others had come running. It was too sketchy, too circumstantial. It would have jeopardized everything.

"Because Kelly needs you," she answered hoarsely. "Elizabeth needs you."

"Cabot," Cragen opened the door and let in a short, curly haired woman who somewhat resembled a dragon. "Defense is here."

"Good," Alex said tightly. She pointed through the glass. "There's your rapist. Ready to swab him?"

"We'll see about this alleged rape," the defense attorney sneered, and Jenny pressed her hand to Jethro's chest as he jumped forward. Alex nodded to Jenny and the three of them went in, Jenny pulling her DNA swap from her pocket and tipping the q-tip from its glass tube.

"Open wide," she snarled; grabbing Grey's cheeks and force them open.

She jammed the swab into his mouth and he coughed. His representation made a noise of protest, but Jenny just shoved his face away from her with disgust. She left as quickly as she'd come, leaving Alex to her work, and exited with the forensics, holding up to both Mike Franks and Jethro.

"That satisfy you, probie?" growled the older man, narrowing his beady eyes.

Jethro threw a disgusted look at Franks. He turned to watch the legal proceedings. Jenny left the room with the swab held aloft; she put a rush on it in forensics and slipped away, pulling out her cell phone to make a call.

* * *

**Sunday December 5th 1993. Washington DC 14th Precinct; SVU. 4:30 pm. **

Kelly Gibbs was cuddling into Jethro's side, playing with the frayed edges of his navy pea coat as she stood in the room with Alex Cabot, Jenny, Grey's defense, and Captain Cragen. Her eyes were downcast and she looked scared. She looked as tired as Jethro had said she was earlier today.

Forty-eight hours, literally, and they had him. She felt a triumphant pleasure that couldn't quite overcome by the sorrow she felt for this motherless little girl next to her, clinging to her father.

Jenny crouched next to Kelly.

"The men inside that room can't see you, but you can see them. It's a special mirror to make them feel scared of you, because you get to tell us who was the one who hurt you, okay Kelly?"

She nodded. She pulled away from Jethro a little.

"He's in there?" she asked.

Jenny tilted her head.

"Maybe. If you say he is, we'll believe you, but if you don't recognize a voice, just tell us, okay?"

Kelly nodded.

"Do you remember how you told me you could remember his voice? Kelly, each person is going to say something, and I need you to tell me if any of the voices match the man who attacked you."

"I don't want to hear him talk," she said.

"I know," Jenny said softly, reaching out and touching her cheek. Jethro looked down warningly. "I think you can do it though. You're brave enough. And when you help us put him away, you won't be scared anymore, and he won't ever hurt you or any other little girl."

"Has he hurt other girls?" she asked suddenly.

Jenny glanced up at Jethro. He shook his head a little negatively.

"We don't know, Kelly. I'm more concerned about what he did to you, okay?"

Kelly looked at her and then nodded slowly, turning towards the window. She looked up at Jethro and then at Jenny and came forward a little.

"I can do it," she said shakily. She turned and looked at Jenny. "Will you hold my hand again?" she ventured uncertainly.

Jenny gave her an apologetic smile and bit her lip, shaking her head a little.

"I can't, Kelly. The defense might say I gave yo ua signal to tell you what to say if I do," she told her honestly. Kelly swallowed and reached for Jethro's hand, gripping it tightly. The defense watched Jenny sharply, but defiantly Jenny moved closer to Kelly, folding her arms pointedly and standing directly behind the girl. That was the best she could do.

Jenny nodded to Cragen and he pressed the intercom.

"Send 'em in," he said.

Five men marched silently into the room. Kelly backed up a little, inching closer to her father.

"Each one of you will say the phrase 'You'll like it if you shut-up, sweet thing' with no inflection, starting with number one." Cragen ordered grimly.

After a moment, number one spoke.

"You'll like it if you shut-up, sweet thing."

Kelly didn't react.

Number two: "You'll like it if you shut-up, sweet thing."

Again, Kelly remained still. A good sign, considering number two was Detective Stabler.

Number three: "You'll like it if you shut-up, sweet thing."

This one's voice was soft and feminine, but Kelly simply shifted her feet and looked up at Jenny, her eyes bright and uncertain. She dipped her head back down and leaned back, her head brushing Jenny's waist. Jethro reached down and placed his hand in her hair.

Number four: "You'll like it if you shut-up, sweet thing."

"It was him. He did it," Kelly whimpered immediately, and turned around and buried her face in Jenny's hip. Jenny wrapped her arms around her soothingly. Kelly started to cry, shaking her head.

"She hasn't heard all of them," said the defense attorney in a dead voice.

"Clearly, she recognized her rapist," Alex reprimanded sharply.

"And yet I'll file to have it thrown out in court," snapped the defense cruelly. "She has to hear all of them."

Kelly looked up suddenly, glaring through her tears at the defense attorney.

"I know who raped me!" she yelled. "It was _him_."

"What the hell—" snarled Jethro, taking up for his daughter immediately.

"Agent Gibbs," Alex tried to placate.

"Don't make her do this," Jethro said directly to Jenny.

"You will not be allowed to break procedure because of a few tears," the attorney said nastily.

"Honey," Jenny said, ignoring Jethro and the attorney. "You have to listen to one more. Just one more, I promise, and then it's over."

Kelly sniffled

"Jen," Jethro said sharply, and she looked at him with raised eyebrows, caught off guard by the nickname. He looked like he didn't notice he'd said it.

"She can do it. Encourage her," she ordered, narrowing her eyes. Kelly needed to hear it from him. He set his jaw and leaned down to Kelly, stroking her hair. He whispered something in her ear and she looked up, listening, and then turned towards the window again.

Slowly, she nodded.

"Okay," she said.

Jethro straightened up, but the look on his face was anything but even _cordial_.

Number five, having been put on hold, said in the same monotone as the others: "You'll like it if you shut-up, sweet thing."

Jenny looked down at Kelly.

"It was four," she said again. "It was, I _know_ it. He hurt me," she said firmly, her entire body shaking.

"Where do you recognize number four from, Kelly?" Alex asked pointedly, glaring at the defense attorney as she carefully followed _procedure_.

"The alley where he raped me," she answered shakily.

Jenny hugged her and shot a fierce glare at the defense attorney. Alex, too, turned her glare on the other woman.

"That only enforces the DNA match," she said confidently, while Jenny slowly crouched down to Kelly's level.

"What are you offering?" the defense attorney finally asked tightly.

"I'm offering to let you pick the court date," snapped Alex, true to her word. "No deal," she said, wrenching open the door. She left arguing with the defense attorney, and Jenny was left alone with Jethro and Kelly and an out of place Cragen.

"File out, men," Cragen ordered, as Jenny reached for Kelly's hair and brushed it from her face.

"Kelly, you did it. We're going to put him in hail, honey, because _you_ were able to help," she soothed.

Kelly swallowed and looked at Jenny with her big blue eyes, her eyes red and sleepy and her cheeks pale and wet with tears.

Cragen gave her a look over Kelly's head and she nodded minutely; he left and she turned to Kelly earnestly.

"Kelly, let's go into the bean bag room again, there's a few more things we need to talk about," she started.

"No," Jethro put his foot down, stepping in. He picked Kelly up in one fell swoop and hugged her, his hand on her back firmly. His voice was raw and hoarse. "Enough. She's been through enough. Back off, detective," he snarled.

Jenny's eyes flashed.

"It is helping her more than you think to face it, Jethro," she said tightly.

"Say that again after you've spent two nights trying to get her to sleep," he barked right back.

"Jethro, I know it's hard and I know you don't want to see her in pain, but I'm trying to help her! This is my job, and I understand—"

"I'm not sure you do, detective!" he growled. "What the hell do you know?"

"A damn sight more than you!" she fired back suddenly, her mouth tightening. "Contrary to your beliefs, Agent Gibbs, I am trying to help her and I _do_ understand. I understand she's hurt. I understand more than you _ever_ will," she barked pointedly, glaring him straight in the eyes to convey the depth of her meeting.

He narrowed his eyes at her but shut his trap, backing off himself suddenly. She had no idea why she'd told him that; she wasn't sure if he caught the meaning behind her words.

Kelly turned around, her eyes wide and her mouth trembling.

"Stop it," she whimpered. "Jenny is a good guy. She's an investigator like you, Daddy," Kelly mumbled earnestly. Jenny's eyes burned suddenly. She nodded to Kelly. Jethro grasped her auburn hair in his hand and suddenly crushed her to him, pressing his lips to the side of her head and closing his eyes. "I want to go home, Daddy," Kelly moaned, laying her head back down. "I feel sick."

"Can we go, Detective?" Jethro asked quietly and hoarsely, looking at her imploringly.

Jenny swallowed hard, emotionally wiped by what had just happened, even if she wasn't quite sure what it was.

She turned to a table in the room and pulled her customary pen from behind her ear and a card from her pocket with her numbers. She flipped it over and scrawled her personal number on the back.

She reached for Kelly and pressed it into the girl's palm.

"Kelly," she said softly. "If you want to talk, you call me. I don't care if it's three in the morning, okay? I'll come talk," she said sincerely.

Kelly blinked at her, and she nodded slowly. She clutched the business card and shifted her chin.

"Orchids are my favorite flower," she said softly, nodding to Jenny's necklace.

Jenny reached up and touched it.

Jethro left the room quickly, still carrying Kelly.

Jenny collapsed in the nearest chair and put her head on her hands, swallowing a bad taste in her mouth and biting her lip until she tasted blood to hold back a flood of tears. And that was where Munch stumbled on her an hour later.

* * *

**Sunday December 5th 1993. Washington DC 14th Precinct; SVU. Squadroom loft. 5:32 pm.**

Jenny smirked warily at Dr. George Huang as she looked into a Styrofoam cup of coffee. They sat at a metal table on the second floor of the squad room.

"John seems to think you identify with the girl," Dr. Huang mentioned.

"John also thinks Big Brother is sifting through his garbage," she said wryly. George smiled, and so did she. She took a sip of her coffee. "It's just a hard case, George," she muttered.

"Is it?" he asked, always the psychologist. "It's open-shut. All that's left is the trial, which is by no means easy for the victims. Yet it isn't as if Kelly was tortured, or maimed—molested by a family member, or worse, or kidnapped and raped by someone we can't catch. What is it that's making it hard? _Is_ it that you identify with Kelly?" he probed.

Jenny shook her head absurdly, falling silent, biting the edge of her Styrofoam cup. John, gruffly caring about her as he was, had dried her tears and forced her down in front of Dr. Huang immediately. He tended to freak out when he saw an errant tear on his stoic partner's face.

"It _isn't_," she said firmly. "Kelly's happy. She's bright. She's nothing like I was at that age."

"She's lost her mother."

"So? I lost both my parents," Jenny shrugged. She didn't think that was it.

"Then what is it about _this_ little girl that's bothering you, Jen?" Dr. Huang asked, one of the few people to ever shorten her name. She blinked; briefly reminded that Jethro had called her that in his distress earlier.

"There are other DNA matches to Grey's DNA. A dead little girl. A Juvy case we might get to crack. It isn't _simple_," she murmured suddenly, to herself. They had much more to look into to prepare for indictment…she shook her head and went back to Huang's question, answering simply:

"I like her."

"You love kids," George said airily.

She smiled, and inclined her head, relenting. She did. She adored them. And she was furious when anyone laid a slightly harmful hand on them. She leaned back, pulling her leg up in the chair with her and took another absentminded sip, pursing her lips.

"It's her father," she said suddenly, saying it matter-of-factly.

"You don't trust him?"

"The opposite," she said, looking at George intently. "I've never seen a man who loves his daughter so much. It's written in his eyes, and there's so much pain there too. It's that she has someone there who's going to save her from this, but he's not sure he can do it," she explained.

"Hmmm," George murmured.

"You can tell me I'm crazy, George," Jenny said with a smile. He laughed and shook his head.

"I think you indentify with Kelly Gibbs because she has something you didn't, and you want to see her get it," he said thoughtfully.

"Okay," she said levelly. "I can deal with that," she added, and then smirked a wry smirk again; "At least you're not telling me I just want to fuck her father. Which was Munch's instant diagnosis."

Dr. Huang rolled his eyes good-naturedly. Jenny smiled.

"It's not fair," she sighed again, shrugging her shoulders and drinking the rest of her coffee.

Her face was washed of the make-up she'd ruined crying. She felt fresher, but she felt vulnerable too, without her _mask_ on. It had broken her heart to watch Kelly cry in fear when she heard Logan Grey's voice, and it had taken all her self-restraint to stop Jethro from shooting him in the metro station. She disliked that Munch had found her in tears, but it couldn't be helped, and he'd seen her that way before.

"It never is really fair," George said unhelpfully.

"Yeah but if you knew," she murmured, shaking her head. "I got his personnel file from his boss, that Mike Franks character—who, by the way, seriously dislikes women with authority," she added, and George smiled, only able to imagine how that had gone over.

She fell silent for a moment.

"Her mother didn't just die," she said slowly. "She was murdered. Shot in the head by a Mexican drug lord after she witnessed a murder. The wound didn't kill her, but a violent car crash resulted and they couldn't save her at the hospital. The baby was in the back seat, Kelly was at piano lessons. Car seat protected the infant," she explained, remembering what she'd read in all of the files. "And all of this while Jethro was fighting in Desert Storm."

George looked at her, shaking his head, his eyes full of sadness.

"You see what I mean, George? It isn't fair. A murder and a rape in one family—and never a bad thing said about any of them. And upstanding marine with a pretty wife and beautiful kids," she shook her head. "Not fair."

"No," he agreed. "But how is it any less fair than a little girl whose parents died in a car accident being beaten around by numerous foster parents for twelve years?"

Jenny looked at him impassively and looked into her empty cup.

She shrugged.

"It isn't fair because somebody _loves_ her," she said simply.

* * *

**Sunday December 5th 1993. Washington DC 14th Precinct; SVU. 10:45 pm.**

Jenny clicked her pen in and out methodically, staring thoughtfully ahead of her. She watched Cragen's bent head as he went over piles of cases in his office. She listened to the loud tick of the clock and the rustle of Benson's papers across the aisle.

She heard the quick click of Alex's borrowed heels. She looked up.

"Grey's attorney is _pissed_," the blonde announced, perching on the edge of Jenny's desk primly and checking the area for men. Benson sat back in her chair, stretching and looking over with interest. Alex lifted one leg onto her knee and slipped off one of Jenny's shoes.

"She doesn't like losing?" asked Jenny airily.

Alex snorted, placing the shoe gratefully on Jenny's desk.

"Nah, she doesn't get why I won't deal. She doesn't see why the state would waste money when she'll settle, what with the evidence."

"That's it though," Olivia said, standing up and moving over to them. "Why would we settle? We've got enough to lock him up for a lifetime, even without Kelly's testimony. And if we get her to testify, it's a slam-dunk case. One less sick bastard prowling the streets."

Alex nodded.

"His defense hinted she'd stir up some cockamamie psych defense if I proceeded, claiming the "sloppiness" of his crime demonstrated emotional instability, but it won't fly. Not if I put that little girl on the stand and get Maddie Tyler to tell about the looks he gave her, that pretty much proves premeditation," Alex said thoughtfully. "I'm pushing Judge Petrovsky to open his juvenile file anyway, and I've already contacted Virginia SVU to fax us the cold case with his DNA attached. No way we're settling."

She placed the twin to Jenny's shoe on the desk and then crossed her legs, chewing her lip.

"You know, we should get Maddie Tyler in here to identify his voice with the retainer, that could cement some discrepancies they might bring out," she murmured.

She nodded to herself affirmatively.

"You're quiet, Jenny," Olivia remarked.

Alex snorted.

"She's got a point, loud-mouth," she teased.

Jenny looked at them and smiled absently.

"Sorry," she murmured, rubbing her lips gently with her fingers. She squinted her eyes a little.

"What's irking you about the case?" Olivia asked sincerely, lowering her voice.

"You still thinking about that girl, Jen?" Munch asked, charging through the squad room with his hands in his pockets and his hat on his head, ready to head out for the night. She gave him a sharp look but didn't say anything. He shook his head.

"It was so fast," Jenny murmured.

"You can't think we missed something?" Alex asked incredulously, her penciled eyebrows going up skeptically. Jenny shook her head slowly.

"No; Kelly said he did it, we've got DNA, stories corroborate—it isn't that," she said absently. "The case, it was so fast. When it takes time, it drags it out, the victims come to grips, they deal…"

"You're saying you wish Kelly'd been put through more?" Olivia asked warily.

"I don't know what I'm saying," Jenny grumbled.

"Yeah, we can tell," Munch piped up. "Look, if you're worried she wasn't traumatized enough for a rape victim, Alex'll drag her through a messy trial. Buck up."

"Munch, you're a fucking bastard," Jenny said dully.

"Nice," Olivia remarked, rolling her eyes at him. "Don't you have an alimony check to deliver?" she probed.

"Har-har-har. You make me laugh," Munch responded deadpan.

Alex gave him a disbelieving look, half-amused, half-dismissive, and turned her attention to Jenny, fiddling with her brief case.

"He has a point," she said with an apologetic shrug. "Kelly is an integral part of a trial. She seems to really respond to you, Jenny, so forgive my asking you to talk to the father about bringing her for pre-trial conditioning."

"Oh, he'll love that," muttered Jenny.

"If he's anything like you, he'll want that bastard who raped his little girl punished and he'll suck it up," Alex pointed out fairly, lifting her briefcase again. She hopped off of her perch on the desk, bare feet on the icky floor again. "And Stabler seemed to think he was a lot like you."

Jenny lifted her eyebrows. She stayed silent and gave Alex a cordial parting nod.

"Damn, Alex—I've gotta ask you something about the McBee boy," Olivia said, starting and hustling after Alex, catching her at the elevator. They went in together and Jenny looked up at Munch, smiling sweetly.

"We got the guy, Shepard," Munch said bluntly. "She's just another case."

"This is all going to hit her full force when she stops to take a breath, John," Jenny said quietly and surely. "I know it. And she won't have any distraction, nothing to cling to, just a broken childhood and a crime she doesn't understand. And him? He doesn't know what he's dealing with."

"What, and _messiah_ Jenny wants to save them? For Christ's sake, there are a thousand girls like her," Munch said, rolling his eyes.

"There aren't a thousand fathers like him," she said quietly.

"You don't know him. You're attracted to him," scoffed Munch.

"When you've quite finished being a dick, I'd like you to leave," Jenny fired back brightly.

"There's my girl," Munch said smugly, glad for the snippy return. She was his partner and his friend, and he'd seen her a lot of different ways. He never liked to see her obsess over a case. Seeing her obsess over a case like this was…preposterous and disconcerting.

"Go home. Get some sleep," he ordered.

"I'll stay here, thanks. Cragen and I can crack a bottle of whiskey and talk about the good ol' days," she mocked.

"His trials in 'Nam and your travesty at the lock-up down at Vice?" snorted Munch, smirking a little. "What a pair," he remarked.

Jenny shrugged and smiled.

"Get outta here before I start turnin' tricks on _you_," she snapped playfully. "Your saggy old ass would die of sexual shock."

Munch grunted and flicked off his desk lamp, hitting Fin's for good measure as he went. He looked back and saw Jenny lean back in her chair again, popping the edge of her pen into her mouth and chewing on it.

He looked at her long, elegant red ponytail for a minute, mulling it over.

"Hey, Jenny," he said finally.

She turned and looked at him, shadowed in the darkened squad room.

"If she really won't get out of your head, this girl," he hesitated, and rolled his eyes, as if he couldn't believe he was condoning this. "Make a house call. Victim never complained before when her detective showed a little heart."

Jenny smiled mildly and swiveled back around slowly in her chair.

She picked up the barrette she had sitting on her desk and looked at it.

Then, she chucked the pen from her mouth, stood up, and resolutely slipped the cute little accessory into her pocket.

* * *

**Sunday December 5th 1993. NCIS. Bullpen. 10:36 pm.**

"Shit."

Special Agent Tony DiNozzo, very green at NCIS, looked up with a wince as he heard the old dinosaur across the bull pen snarl angrily.

"Shit, shit, shit."

Tony wondered if he should ask what was wrong. Aside from the obvious. Like the fact that Gibbs' daughter had been raped, and they were swamped with homicide cases because the city had gone psycho, and Abby was a mess because she loved those little girls and someone had hurt one of them.

"Fuck."

So now Franks had upgraded to the mother of all curse words.

"God-mother-fu—"

"Um, Franks?" Tony interrupted hesitantly, ducking his head a little in case something came flying at him. Like a leftover hand grenade or some dusty napalm from Franks' Vietnam days.

"What, boy?" growled Mike Franks, glaring at the probationary agent across the room.

"Erm. Nothing," Tony said immediately, and then plunged on, throwing caution to the winds. "Except I just wondered if something was wrong."

"Are you an idiot?" barked Franks.

"No…" said Tony slowly.

"Good answer, boy," hissed Franks, shoving away from his desk and slamming a file in front of him shut. "We got nothin'!" he snarled.

"On which case?"

"Any of 'em! The double murder, the murder-suicide, the wife's alleged murder, the kids' murder!"

Tony nodded, looking helplessly at the file in front of him. He blinked his eyes tiredly. None of them had slept since Gibbs brought Kelly and Lizzy to work for a brief minute the other morning to explain what had happened.

Tony had never seen Franks so raging mad, and he'd never seen Gibbs looking so defeated. Kelly had wandered over to say hi to him, but she had looked tired, and she'd jumped away when he reached out to ruffle her hair. Then Gibbs had shouted at him. It had been a miserable few days.

No one had wanted to tell Abby, but she always found things out, and she hadn't stopped crying.

"Snap out of it, son," growled Franks suddenly, dropping a few files on Tony's desk. "Time don't just stop because of a crime. And you're not leaving until you find me a new angle on the Burgan case," he growled, tapping the files roughly.

He stormed back over to his desk, stopped, and whirled around.

"Dammit!" he swore loudly. "Where the _fuck_ are the Kesley statements?"

"Um," Tony had jumped a mile at Franks' outburst. "I think Gibbs took them?" he offered tentatively.

Franks thought for a moment. He deflated.

"Yeah. Right. Guess probie has to do something when the house gets quiet," he growled, pacing around the bull pen for a minute. He snatched his coat from the desk suddenly. It was late. It was Sunday night. They were crazy men with no families to go home to.

"Sciuto in the lab?" Franks asked shortly.

Tony shook his head. Then stopped, and nodded.

"She…she's pouring over the evidence from Kelly's…um…" Tony trailed off.

Franks looked distressed by the information. He shook his head sharply.

"No. The hell she is," he muttered, and began storming off.

"Hey, where you going?" Tony asked, jumping up, his brow furrowing. They couldn't be leaving him in charge; it would only give them something to bitch about tomorrow!

"I'm getting Abs a puppy or somethin'," Franks growled back. "And then I'm gonna find a way to kill the bastard who raped Probie's daughter."

Tony winced at Mike Franks' fighting words, considering the ramifications if that guy did end up dead.

Though he wouldn't mind killing the guy himself.

* * *

**Sunday December 5th 1993. Home of Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Kelly Gibbs, and Elizabeth Gibbs. 11:00 pm. **

Leroy Jethro Gibbs wasn't focusing on the papers in front of him.

He stared at them blankly, his shoulders stiff and aching, his eyes tired from no sleep, his head throbbing. His senses were attuned to the living room behind him, the soft murmur of Disney characters on the TV and Lizzy's occasional adorable giggles.

Kelly hadn't made a sound in an hour and he was hoping—_praying_—against hope she had fallen asleep. It was late, and she should be in bed, but she kept having nightmares and she didn't want to be alone in her room. Lizzy should be in bed, but he'd slacked off lately on discipline, and she wasn't. He didn't give a damn; who cared if she was in bed as long as she was unharmed and smiling?

He was _hurting_, and it was more than just a dull physical pain. He was struggling to come to grips with what had happened—happened so fast, and to _his_ little girl, his innocent, sweet little girl.

It was so wrong. So evil. He couldn't shake the thought that if he just tried to get Lizzy to stop clinging to him, he could have let Abby or her grandmother babysit and seen Kelly's recital…and then no one ever would have touched her. He should have _been_ there.

Except he couldn't stand leaving Lizzy crying when she was sick. She needed him, too. Kelly needed him now. They both needed him. They needed their _mother_, and things had been so hard since Shannon had been murdered.

He felt sick. Sick and angry. He flexed his fist, remembering the gun in it, pressed against that son of a bitch's head, trembling, aching to fire. He should have shot him. Shot him and screw the consequences. Like he had with the one who'd taken Shannon from him and his girls.

"Daddy!" whispered Lizzy.

She ran up to him and wrapped her arms around his knee, burying her face in his waist and snuggling up to him. He grunted at her, reaching down to touch her soft baby hair.

"Scary monster," Lizzy murmured. He turned around sharply, and relaxed when he realized she was talking about the creepy octopus woman in _the Little Mermaid_. Jethro smiled fondly and looked down. She smiled up at him. She was a happy kid; she smiled a lot. A far cry from the fussy baby she'd been when he'd come home from Kuwait to a motherless infant and Kindergartener.

"You think you're gonna go to bed anytime soon, Liz?" Jethro asked gently.

"Kelly gets to stay awake!"

"Yeah," sighed Jethro.

She wrinkled her nose at him and stood on tiptoes, peaking at his work and attempting to scramble up into his lap. He reached for her when she paused and slid back down, cocking her head. Jethro turned to listen, thinking she was hearing her sister.

"Someone is here," Lizzy informed him softly.

"What, baby?" he asked distractedly, furrowing his brow.

Lizzy pointed at the door and pointed to her ear smiling. As usual, he was floored by her sensitive hearing. He stood up. Lizzy looked up at him and then scampered off. She jumped onto the couch and Jethro flinched when he heard Kelly squeal and moan, mumbling something in annoyance at Lizzie.

He heard a car door slam in the driveway and checked the clock. It was way past ten. Quickly, he walked over to the couch and peered at Kelly and Lizzy. Lizzy's eyes were back on the TV, and Kelly was curled under a blanket. He pressed his hand to her forehead gently and started towards the door, eager to prevent a knock or the doorbell.

He unlocked the door without looking through the peephole and opened it.

Jethro didn't really react to the redhead detective standing on his doorstep. She looked at him in surprise, her keys and badge in her hand, obviously surprised that he'd beat her to the door.

"Detective Shepard," he greeted carefully.

"Agent Gibbs," she returned pointedly, showing a bit of pique that he had returned to professional titles. "I'm aware I might be the last _reminder_ you want to see right now," the woman took a deep breath, her eyes determined, "but part of my job is helping the victims. And I'm damn good at it."

He looked at her for a moment.

Then, slowly, he opened the door to let her in. Because confidence like that deserved some recognition, and she'd said something earlier that was still bothering him, and had made him think Kelly might need her. She had sure mentioned Jenny a lot in the past two days.

She took the door from him and shut it behind her. She even locked it, from force of habit, he didn't doubt. She turned and looked at him, and he noticed she looked as tired as he, and briefly wondered if she'd slept at all.

Quick footsteps. Elizabeth came running.

"Hi," she greeted quietly, clutching at Jenny's jeans. She looked up at her, and very seriously but her finger to her lips. "Kelly fell asleep!" she said softly.

"Oh, she did?" asked Jenny, looking to Jethro. He pointed to the couch silently and nodded. "Is this the first time?" she asked, keeping her voice low.

"She's fallen asleep? No," he grunted. "But it's the first time she's stayed asleep longer than ten minutes."

Jenny nodded and looked back over to the couch.

"It's hard at first," she said absently.

Jethro narrowed his eyes and studied her.

"Coffee," he said hoarsely, turning towards the kitchen.

"Don't bother," she said with a shrug, but he ignored her.

"Jenny?" Lizzy asked. Jenny looked down and then crouched to her level, smiling gently. "Kelly is missing her favorite part!"

"What are you watching?" Jenny asked.

"Ariel," Lizzy answered. "Mermaid!" she added, moving her hands up in down in a swimming motion. Jenny grinned.

"What's Kelly's favorite part?" she asked curiously.

"Um. Ariel kisses Prince Eric," Lizzy whispered. She made a face. "Ick."

Jenny smiled. Lizzy moved closer to her and leaned on her leg; Jenny put her hand on the ground to keep her balance. The little girl smiled at her. She reached over and touched Jenny's hair, pulling it and looking at it interestedly.

"Red," she said, giggling. She widened her eyes and leaned forward. "I gotta check on Kelly," she whispered, nodding solemnly and scampering off. Jenny could barely see her little head as she tiptoed around the couch.

Jenny stood up, crossing her arms across her chest soothingly. It was dim in the house, the only light from the kitchen and the television. It was also relatively clean for a house kept by a single father with two girls.

"You don't have to stand," he said gruffly, coming back in with two cups of coffee.

"Interesting way of offering me a seat," she said without thinking, accustomed to a more sarcastic, bitter back-and-forth with Munch. She made a face, attempting to show she hadn't meant to snap, but he looked at her, smirked, and slid her a cup of coffee.

Jenny pulled out a seat at the table and sat down, her eyes scanning over the open files. Jethro shut the two in front of him and leaned forward, his elbows on the table, rubbing his face tiredly.

"Daddy. Daddy!" whispered Lizzy, running back over to him.

"What, honey?"

"Kelly is still sleeping," she informed him in a hush. She leaned against his leg, but before he could reach down and touch her, she ran over to Jenny again. "Kelly is sad, Jenny," she said in a small voice. She put her hand on Jenny's knee. "Can I sit with you?"

"Liz, Jenny needs to talk to me, she can't play," Jethro said, shaking his head as his daughter tried to climb up in Jenny's lap.

"I don't mind," Jenny said, unable to hold back a smile. She lifted Lizzy up effortlessly and balanced her in her lap. She brushed her hand over the girl's hair and smiled, curling one free hand about the coffee cup.

Jethro looked at Lizzy warily for a moment and sighed quietly, shrugging in defeat. Lizzy leaned her head against Jenny and immediately reached for her necklace, clasping it in her small palm.

"Be careful with that, Elizabeth," Jethro ordered.

"_Okay_," she whined impatiently. Jenny gave a small laugh.

Jethro took a drink of his coffee absently, staring at Elizabeth. Jenny hesitated for a moment, trying to find a good starting place, and opted to start with the—relatively—good news.

"I thought you'd like to know Kelly's blood reports turned up clean—no HIV, no gonorrhea, et cetera. She's not at risk for sexually transmitted diseases," she said in a low voice. He looked sickened and rubbed his forehead again, covering his mouth this time. She thought he might have muttered a curse under his breath.

"I didn't consider…" he started, breaking off tensely. "Goddammit."

"No, no," hissed Lizzy suddenly, looking over at him. Jenny patted her back soothingly.

"How old are you, Miss Elizabeth?" Jenny asked promptly.

"Two!" answered Lizzy proudly.

"She's three," Jethro corrected. "Three, Lizzy, remember?"

"Oh, my birthday. November four!" she said, holding up three fingers.

Jenny smiled and reached out, touching her nose affectionately. Lizzy giggled and wrinkled it.

"Then you're little enough for magic ears."

"Magic ears?" she asked, her eyes going wide.

"You can pretend you didn't hear what your Daddy said," whispered Jenny.

Lizzy scrunched up her eyes and giggled, burying her head in Jenny's shoulder and covered her face.

"Silly!" she said, muffled in Jenny's t-shirt. Jenny smiled and returned her gaze to Jethro, who was looking at her this time and not Lizzy. He smiled in a small way after a minute and met her eyes again, his look still hard and his jaw still tense in that rough way.

"How is Kelly feeling?" Jenny asked after a moment, absently running her hand up and down over Lizzy's back. She felt the little girl rest her chin on her shoulder.

Jethro shrugged bitterly.

"Tell me how she's supposed to feel, detective, and I'll let you know if she meets the benchmark," he growled quietly.

Jenny let it go, even if she was starting to get annoyed with what seemed like his constant attempts to goad her into some sort of battle of wills. She looked at him for a minute, licked her lips, and continued carefully.

"Why do you think I'm here, Agent Gibbs?" she asked softly.

He looked at her sharply.

"Haven't decided yet," he said shortly, clearly either unconcerned or unaware. She leaned forward a little, shifting Elizabeth's weight.

"It's not because I thought I'd win some cheap, gooey sensitivity-service award. I'll be damned if it put enough store by stupid commendations to show up at your house at the eleventh hour. I'm here because I care, Jethro," she said poignantly. "You're NCIS. Don't you care about your victims?"

He studied her for a minute.

"I work homicide," he grunted, his tone softening a little but his intent, wary look hardly letting up. Jenny gave a half-smile.

"How long?" she asked, clarifying when he blinked at her blankly. "How long have you been with NCIS?"

"Year," he said briskly.

"You haven't hit that case yet that just…shakes you," she murmured. He looked at her as if he wanted to blow her off, with that same look she often got from older, more _hardened_ people. Men and woman who thought she was young, idealistic, and maybe silly. It didn't bother her anymore.

Elizabeth ran her hands over Jenny's head, tearing out tendrils of her hair. She crawled up further in Jenny's lap and tugged her thin, overused hair tie out of her hair. Jenny pursed her lips and blew bangs out of her face, giving Lizzy a funny look as it came tumbling down.

Lizzy giggled and took strands of it, twisting them together. She put her tongue between her teeth as in concentration.

It was then Jethro realized she was attractive. Beautiful, even, and he didn't know why he hadn't noticed it before. There was something unassuming about it. Her demeanor and her clothing clearly stated she didn't want to draw attention to the fact that she was stunning. It was sexist and ridiculous that he was more willing to listen when he could see all of her hair framing her face.

He shook his head in frustration.

She must have taken it as rejection of her words.

Her eyes narrowed earnestly, sharpened a little, and she locked them onto his confidently.

"Look, Jethro," she said earnestly, "I have been with the Special Victims Unit since I graduated from the academy—and they don't allow graduates to enter into that unit because of the psychological effects, but I was granted access because of circumstance and," she paused, smiling a little bitterly, "credentials. I deal with rape victims all the time, and I've dealt with quite a few sexually abused little girls. They're all the same: they withdraw, they go quiet, and they lose their spark, maybe their soul. It's heartbreaking. Kelly isn't like that. She _talks_ to me. She smiled at me—Kelly still has her spark, and you don't know how rough this could get for her. I want to help her," she implored seriously, meaning every word of it. "I _do_, Jethro. You have to let me."

The man across from her stared at her. His blue eyes were clear and crystal and cobalt all at the same time, and the lines around his mouth were tight and etched in suffering. She didn't take her eyes off of him; she wanted him to understand that she really did feel a connection with Kelly.

The little one shifted and snuggled into Jenny's shoulder, resting her small head.

Jethro leaned forward on the table, glancing behind her.

"She seems…okay," he began gruffly, hesitating, "when she's awake. During the day. She wants to be around Lizzy constantly though, and she doesn't like me leaving the room, but she doesn't say anything," he stopped and glanced back at her again. "She can't sleep. She wakes up screaming."

Jenny nodded understandingly.

"Does she talk about it at all?" she prompted gently.

He reached up and rubbed his forehead.

"She asked me if she was going to have a baby," he growled. He furrowed his brows angrily and curled his hand into a fist. He looked up at her, distressed. "You've seen—" he swallowed harshly, "You've seen the bruises and the cuts? What that fucking son of a bitch did to her?" he demanded.

Again, Jenny nodded slowly, subconsciously pressing her palm gently against Elizabeth Gibbs' back. She felt the steady, soft breathing of the girl and noted that she had fallen asleep. She didn't alert Jethro.

He was covering his mouth again. His hand trembled with suppressed rage.

"She's just a little girl," he hissed his eyes hardening.

"Is there any female influence in her life?" Jenny asked cautiously, unwilling to drag hurtful feelings to the surface about his wife. He rolled his eyes absently.

"Her grandmother," he said bitterly, "but I wouldn't call her a good influence," he snapped.

Jenny compressed her lips at his tone and revelation. She sensed that, had he not been so distracted and upset, he wouldn't have announced such a dislike of the woman; he seemed like a man to stay mum on personal relationships—particularly if familial.

"How long has it been since your wife died?" Jenny asked.

He stayed silent for a moment, looking at her. He pulled his hand from his forehead and rested it on the table, looking at Elizabeth.

"Almost three years," he said hoarsely.

Jenny instinctively reached across the table and slipped her hand into his, squeezing his fingers in a way that was comforting, yet professional. He looked down at her hand as if he didn't understand it, and then slowly ran his thumb over her knuckles. She stayed silent. She watched him. And she slowly rubbed Elizabeth's back, brushing her fingers absently in the edges of the little girl's auburn hair.

"She has to testify," she said bluntly, getting it out there. "It won't really be over until the jury speaks."

He looked up at her sharply. His eyes narrowed, his jaw hardened. He shifted in his chair, toward the couch where he said Kelly lay, and looked at it.

"I don't want to put her through it," he growled.

"I know," Jenny said softly.

He looked over at Jenny.

"She has to?"

"If you want to make sure there's no way that bastard gets off," Jenny answered, letting the rest hang. He nodded, as if to himself, bushing his knuckles under his chin. He sighed in frustration, running the same hand through his hair.

"It's like catharsis," Jenny said quietly, offering a bit of wisdom. He looked at her sharply and she smiled bitterly. "Testifying," she clarified.

His eyes narrowed at her, studying. He looked at her like he could read what was written on the inside of her skull and her heart and she wasn't sure she liked it. Sure, she'd insinuated enough herself, but that gave him no right to make her feel so exposed.

She realized he still had her hand in his grip.

She pulled it out and picked up her cooling cup of coffee, taking a lukewarm mouthful and swallowing it. Elizabeth's hand twitched and she pulled at the necklace on Jenny's throat in her sleep. Jenny winced.

"Here," Jethro said suddenly, sitting up. "Give her to me, she weighs a ton," he muttered, half-getting up. Jenny shook her head, smiling gently.

"She's asleep, let her be," she soothed, patting the little girl's hair fondly. "She's a sweetheart," she complimented sincerely. His eyes softened a little as he looked at his daughter.

"She likes you," he said suddenly. He looked towards Kelly. "Kelly does, too. She said you made her feel safe, before they took her to the hospital," he muttered.

Jenny smiled to herself, turning her head to check out the sleeping kid on her. Elizabeth's hair smelled like baby soap and lavender. Her eyes were flicking under her eyelids lightly. Her nose wrinkled sleepily.

"Jenny," he said seriously. She looked up at him. "Why did they assign you to SVU against procedure?" he asked. He asked it like he anticipated the answer.

She looked at him, her jaw hardening a little, unsure if she was prepared to answer the question with a three-year-old sleeping on her shoulder. She was prevented from doing so.

A small cry and a tearful whimper grabbed Jethro's attention and he was out of his chair in seconds, crouching in front of the couch and reaching out for Kelly. Jenny winced as she heard Kelly start sobbing and covered Elizabeth's exposed ear delicately.

"Daddy," Kelly murmured, her voice thick and clogged with tears. Jenny watched her sit up, her long hair tangled and messy in the back, and curl against the arm of the couch, wrapping her arms around herself. "Daddy, it hurts. He—he—I don't want him to—"

"Honey," Jethro muttered quietly, reaching out and touching her cheek. "I am right here. You're safe," he said, pushing her hair back. She shivered and leaned against the arm rest, burying her head in it. She tilted it and looked at him, disappearing again. Jenny watched, chewing the inside of her lip.

"I want Mommy," she whimpered, leaning forward and grabbing his shoulder.

"_Kelly_," he said desperately, resting his hand on the back of her head and tucking it into his shoulder. He ran his palm up and down her back, pressing his lips to the side of her head in a paternal kiss and gritting his teeth.

Jenny slowly got up and looked around cursorily for a light switch. She looked at Jethro, caught his attention, and mouthed 'lights'. He pointed to the switch. Elizabeth squealed sleepily in protest as Jenny moved, her small face screwing up as the lights went on.

"Who is that?" Kelly asked quietly, sniffling as she lifted her head a little.

"Detective Shepard," Jethro answered slowly, straightening. He rested his arm over his knee and glanced at her. Kelly looked around, blinking in the lights. She sat up a little more and peered at Jenny.

"Hi, Jenny," she greeted shakily. "What are you doing here? Did something bad happen?" she asked slowly. Jenny shook her head, resting her hand lightly on Elizabeth's back.

"Nah, I just wanted to see how you were doing," she said, shrugging a little.

"Oh," Kelly said, still looking at Jenny. "Can you talk to me?" she asked.

"No problem," agreed Jenny, coming forward.

"You want something to drink, Kel?" Jethro asked, smoothing back her hair again. She nodded slowly.

"Grape juice?"

"Sure thing, kiddo," he said, touching her on the nose. Kelly smiled a little. Jethro stood up and immediately reached for Elizabeth pointedly. Jenny handed her over, clasping her hands as Elizabeth blinked her eyes groggily, murmured incoherently, and dropped her head like a rock against Jethro's shoulder.

"Hey, Lizzy, after we get Kelly some juice you're going to bed," she heard him saying as he brushed past her and started towards the kitchen.

"Nuh-_uh_," was the grumpy response.

Jenny smiled and walked closer to Kelly, standing in front of her. Kelly smushed the palm of her hand into her eye, rubbing tears away, and scooted over against the arm rest. She looked up at Jenny a little shyly.

"You can sit down," she offered.

Jenny smiled and obliged, dropping down next to her casually and slouching unprofessionally to make Kelly more comfortable. She blew out her breath and folded her arms across her stomach, rolling her head on the cushions to look at Kelly.

"Nightmares, huh?" she asked sympathetically.

Kelly nodded.

"Bad ones," she said quietly. She put her hand up to her temple and closed her eyes a little, tapping her head. "Like I can hear his voice in my head, all mean and mechanic like in the room where we were with Ms. Cabot?" she looked at Jenny and then frowned, glancing away. "I feel like he can see me. And he chases me, and I keep screaming. And then my head and my stomach hurt," she explained. She curled up against the armrest again, looking at Jenny with large blue eyes. "I feel scared," she said distastefully.

Jenny shrugged.

"So?"

"I'm never scared," Kelly told her. "I'm like Daddy, Mom always said so, because she hated spiders and crawly bugs and I would just kill them. I'm _brave_," she said. "I hate being scared."

"There is nothing wrong with being scared," Jenny said, shrugging again. "You loved your Mom, and she was scared of bugs. What's wrong with being scared?"

"It's dumb," Kelly mumbled, closing her eyes tightly and reopening them. "Being afraid makes things no fun. Peter Pan was never scared, and his life was an adventure."

"Well, Kelly, Peter Pan never had to face the bad side of the world. No one hurt children in Never Never Land," Jenny said gently.

"Captain Hook," Kelly said.

Jenny smiled. She inclined her head.

"This man, Kelly, who hurt you? He's kind of like Captain Hook, then, right?"

"No. Peter wasn't scared of Captain Hook," Kelly mumbled. She sat up a little and looked at Jenny, glancing over her shoulder toward the kitchen. She hung her head and picked at the threads on a blanket in her lap. "I feel scared all the time. Especially when I'm alone."

Jenny leaned a little closer, resting her hand on Kelly's shoulder and squeezing gently. She pressed her hand against Kelly's healing, bruised cheek and smiled softly.

"You're not alone Kelly," she said encouragingly. "You have Lizzy, and your Dad. You even have your Mom, in your memories. You can be scared right now; you have people to be brave for you. It's much better that way, okay, honey?" she said sincerely.

Kelly looked up at her, biting her lip.

"I think I hurt Daddy's feelings," she said in a small voice. Jenny furrowed her brow. How could this child, smack in the middle of the worst experience she'd ever have to go through, spare enough guilt to think about her father's feelings? Jenny bit her tongue.

"You think?" she asked curiously. Kelly nodded.

"I said I wanted Mommy," she clarified.

"Ah," Jenny noted. She shook her head. "He understands, Kelly, he does."

"He looked sad."

"Kelly," Jenny said hesitantly, biting the inside of her cheek and twisting her lips up for a moment. She rubbed the girl's shoulder again. "Your father…he loves you a lot. It's hard for him to handle the idea that someone hurt you."

Kelly's eyes narrowed and her mouth trembled again. A few tears rolled down her pale cheeks.

"I don't want him to be sad, it isn't his fault," she whimpered.

"He still feels like it is. It's a Daddy thing," Jenny said.

"I know. Grandma says he has a complex," Kelly said.

Jenny giggled. Kelly looked up at her curiously and smiled a little, the sudden light in her eyes making her tears sparkly.

"You have a pretty laugh," she said quietly. "It reminds me of my Mom," she added good-naturedly. "Your hair, too."

She reached out and touched Jenny's hair, combing her fingers through it.

"Thank you," Jenny said warmly. Kelly shook her head a little, tilting her head at Jenny's crystal orchid necklace again. She picked it up experimentally and looked at it. Then, she looked up at Jenny and licked her lips, furrowing her brow.

"Jenny," she said softly. "When will it stop making me scared?"

Jenny's eyes softened. She heard a doorbell ring obnoxiously and glanced over, watching as Jethro came out of the kitchen. He was cradling Lizzy like a baby, and he didn't have any grape juice, she'd bet a month's salary he'd been listening.

She flicked her eyes back to Kelly.

"You might always be a little scared. It takes a while, if we're being honest. Everything you're feeling, you know? Even if you think you shouldn't feel it? Face it. That makes it easier, sweetheart, I promise," she said, pushing Kelly's hair off of her forehead. "Talk to your Dad, even if it's embarrassing," she said earnestly. "He loves you. You have that, and you're lucky. It's much more than some girls," she said. "More than I had."

Kelly nodded. She pulled her hand away from Jenny's neck.

"Did someone hurt you, Jenny?" she asked tentatively. She was perceptive, that much was obvious; she got it from her father, no doubt. Jenny nodded slowly. "Like he hurt me?" Kelly asked naively. Again, Jenny just nodded.

Kelly suddenly shifted and curled into Jenny's side, turning her face against her shoulder. She shivered, sniffling a little and letting a few more tears fall.

"I like you. I'm glad you're helping on my case," she said.

"Evenin' Probie," growled a deep voice from the doorway. Jenny heard the sound of the door closing. "Pipsqueak, wake-up and give me a hug."

"MIKE!" shouted Elizabeth, suddenly wide awake. Kelly straightened and turned around, peeking over the couch. She smiled a little.

"Mr. Franks!" she called politely, waving her hand.

"Will you stop with the 'mister' crap?" the crusty old NCIS agent growled, glaring playfully at Elizabeth. She squealed and hid her face in her hands, giggling madly. Kelly hunkered down, hiding her nose and mouth behind the couch.

"Only when you learn your manners," she responded cheekily.

"Why, if you were my daughter, you munchkin…" he snipped good-naturedly, coming up on the couch and ruffling Kelly's hair messily. She crinkled her nose up at him. Mike Franks, his eyes tired and bloodshot, looked at Jenny and raised his eyebrows.

"If it ain't Detective Pretty-eyes," he said mockingly, looking her up and down. She smirked a little and held out her hand.

"I believe the last time we met the both of us were preoccupied," she said neutrally.

He grunted.

"Is that son of a bitch still in jail?" he asked sharply, looking at her hand impassively.

"Mike," snapped Jethro. He shook his head slightly when Franks looked over at him and the older man shrugged, peering at Elizabeth again.

"Man, you look sleepy, kid," he remarked. "Isn't your Dad tucking you in at night?"

"She won't go to bed," Jethro defended tiredly.

"Stop whining, Probie, let an old pro show you how it's done," growled Franks.

"You don't have kids, Mike. Daddy can do it better than you," Kelly stated.

"What did you say?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. Kelly laughed a little. Jenny smiled at the sound, thankful to the rough-and-tumble Mike Franks for walking in like nothing was wrong and making it happen. "We'll see what the pipsqueak says," he said, looking at Elizabeth. "Who has more authority, me or that guy?" he jerked his thumb at Jethro.

Jethro folded his arms and rolled his eyes.

Elizabeth stuck out her tongue thoughtfully.

"KELLY!" she shouted finally.

Mike Franks burst out laughing. Jenny smiled widely. Elizabeth slapped her hands over her mouth, giggling.

"Interesting," Franks muttered, looking at Kelly. "Guess you should put her to bed," he suggested with a shrug.

"Lizzy is not tired," Elizabeth stated.

Kelly shifted onto her knees suddenly and looked at her little sister.

"You must be Lizzy, I'm exhausted," she said sweetly. Elizabeth looked at her, her eyes confused. Kelly was supposed to back her up in the rebellion against bedtime! "My eyes hurt I'm so sleepy. It might be nice to go night night. I can read you Charlie," she coaxed, rising up a little more.

Elizabeth seemed to consider it. She looked around with wide blue eyes at everyone, patting Mike Franks on the shoulder. She yawned and smacked her lips, leaning forward to press a cute kiss to Mike's nose.

"Night night," she decided.

Kelly nodded and got up off the couch, tucking her hair behind her ears. She was wearing wrinkled jeans and a short sleeves t-shirt, her bare feet peeking out from frayed hems. Mike crouched down and Elizabeth scrambled out of his arms, throwing herself at Kelly.

"Night night," she repeated to Jenny, waving shyly and burying her face in Kelly's shirt.

"Goodnight, Elizabeth," Jenny said softly. Elizabeth giggled.

"Elizabeth," she repeated, as if unused to hearing herself called that.

"Say night to Daddy," Kelly ordered, and Elizabeth scampered away, diving at Jethro's knees with all the finesse of a charging bull.

"What's 'Charlie'?" Jenny asked curiously as they waited for the hugs and kisses to cease.

"Charles Dickens," Kelly answered quietly. "_A Tale of Two Cities_. It puts her out like a light, but I have no idea why. It's so good," she explained.

Jenny stared at her in amusement. The kid was eight-years-old. Eight-year-olds didn't read _Dickens_—hell, in her experience, most of them didn't read at all! She shook her head in wonder, and then asked another question.

"Kelly, how do you know so much about Peter Pan?"

"I read about him," she said, turning as her sister cuddled up to her again.

"Daddy loves me," she bragged immediately.

Kelly smiled and took her hand, leading her down a separate hall that must lead to the girls' rooms. Jenny turned to look at the two men left standing, finding it odd to be left alone with adults now. She looked at Jethro sincerely.

"Charles Dickens at eight. That's _impressive_."

"Kel? She's a genius," Franks said airily, waving his hand as if it were nothing.

"What're you doing here, Mike?" asked Jethro.

"Dragged Abs home, she was working herself insane in that lab, bawling her eyes out. Thought I'd stop by and see how your girl was," he explained with an unaffected shrug. "Didn't know you had company," he remarked, squinting at Jenny. "SVU usually make midnight house calls?"

His question was skeptical. Jenny stood up, folding her arms. She looked at him guardedly; certainly not afraid of him but unsure if she liked him yet.

"Not usually, no," she answered simply.

"Huh," grunted Franks suspiciously. "And why is a pretty little thing such as yourself prowling around a victim's house?"

"I care," she answered with a shrug.

"HA," snorted Franks. "That 'caring' got anything to do with the single marine father of two?" he asked a little nastily.

"Knock it off, Mike," growled Jethro suddenly. "She came to make sure Kelly was coping."

"Ah, she's a woman," muttered Franks, as if he thought Jethro's defense was pitiful or fueled by something else.

Jenny laughed shortly. He glared at her.

"Somethin' funny, missy?" he asked.

"Yeah," she answered slowly. "You don't like me because I have a vagina?" she asked bluntly, lifting her eyebrow archly. "Most men I come into contact with find that a _benefit_."

Franks stared at her, obviously winded by the bluntness of her statement. Jethro, surprisingly enough, laughed. She gave him a small smirk. Franks muttered under his breath, but the eye he gave her had a little more appreciation and tolerance in it.

Jenny lifted her shoulders a little and unfolded her arms, slipping her hand into her pocket for her keys. They jingled loudly as she pulled them out and she smiled a half-smile, holding them up.

"I think she'll sleep a little easier now, Jethro," she said mildly. "I'm heading out. I supposed I've filled my caring quota in Agent Franks eyes, and I wouldn't want the neighbors to get the wrong idea," she murmured, a little bitterly, a little playfully.

She moved around the couch and Jethro glared at Mike. He lifted his shoulders innocently.

"I'll walk you out," he grunted, pushing a chair in out of the way as she walked past.

"Good coffee," she remarked complimentarily as she passed, pointing to the mug. Jethro followed her to the door and took hold of it when she opened it, looking at her, exhausted.

"You'll be glad you heard me out," she told him, shrugging her shoulders a little.

He looked at her intently for a minute and then lowered his voice, his words rough and husky.

"This is hell," he said.

Jenny reached out and touched his arm delicately. With her other hand, she looped her keys around one finger and reached into her pocket for Kelly's little barrette, holding it out in her palm.

"I found this," she said simply. "She might look for it one day. You'll have it," she said.

Jethro looked down and took it, running his finger over the smooth metal designs.

"Her mother gave her these," he muttered.

Jenny stepped closer to the open door. She pushed her hair back a little and held out her hands. He looked up suddenly, a steel wall seeming to fall over his eyes, and straightened.

"When do you need to see her again? For testimony?"

"Alex—er, ADA Cabot will want to prep her for trial so she doesn't get nervous or caught off guard. I'll give you a call," Jenny said, shrugging a little. "There's no hurry. We have the bastard, and Alex's sure to wrangle him remand at the arraingment. I figure we give Kelly a few days to breathe."

Jethro looked at her thankfully.

"Hey Jethro?" asked Jenny. He raised his brows in answer. She smirked. "Don't make that girl go to school tomorrow."

He snorted derisively. He didn't even justify her statement with an answer.

"Take care, Jen," he muttered.

She smiled and started down the steps. It struck her again that he'd mentioned the nickname. Very few people called her that. For most, it was Jennifer until she finally ordered them to stop with that nonsense.

_Jennifer, yes Jennifer—pretty Jennifer, little Jennifer…_

There was a reason she hated being called Jennifer.

She made a face as she wrenched open her car door and then slammed it, her brow darkening as her mood did. Echoes of the past always snuck and crept to the front of her mind during cases like this, cases with children. Even if Kelly Gibbs was six years younger than Jenny had been.

She shook her head and turned up the volume of her retro-trash Styx tape. The music drowned out her worrisome thoughts and she thought about Jethro and Kelly on the way home, reluctant to face her dark empty house and eager to take on work bright and early.


	5. The Fifth

_A/N: I have to display my own penchant to be crass for a moment--the name 'Logan Grey' (Kelly's rapist) is taken from the name of this kid at my school who...well, we fear he really will be in jailr for something along these lines one day._

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* * *

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**Wednesday December 8th 1993. Washington DC 14th Precinct; SVU. 12:15 pm.**

Jenny Shepard examined the chow mein noodles clutched in her chopsticks suspiciously as she lounged back in her chair, her feet crossed at the ankles on her desk. It was lunch hour and, always eager to live up to the stereotype, the cops at the SVU precinct were eating.

"So last night—"

"Hey, we really wanna hear this story, Munch?" Stabler interrupted with a leer before Munch could even begin to tell them what had happened.

Fin snickered and Olivia smiled, tipping her plastic cup towards her lips and tapping the bottom for ice.

Munch gave him a lofty look.

"If you're interested in improving the intellectual caliber of your mind, yes," he answered.

"Ooooh," hissed Stabler mockingly.

"I'm listenin'," Fin announced sympathetically, grinning.

"I watched an expose on area fifty-one—do you know just what the government is hiding from us out in—"

A series of groans interrupted the wizened conspiracy theorist as he started in on his far-left, anti-government, George Orwell-esque tangent. Indignantly, Munch glared around at all of them.

"Do you people not care about the inner devious workings of the liberty stealing administration calling itself a democracy?" he demanded.

"Not so long's I'm allowed to carry my gun," Fin retorted simply.

"Amen," agreed Stabler.

"It appears you have been shot down," Jenny remarked, raising her eyebrows at her partner teasingly. He shook his head.

"You youngsters," he grumbled facetiously.

"You old fart," Olivia retorted in much the same tone.

"I'm glad everyone around my precinct is so hard at work," Captain Cragen said brightly, marching into the squad room and throwing a look at them all.

"All we've got is cold cases and dead ends," Stabler said defensively, throwing up his hands.

"Yeah, well, that's still work," reprimanded Cragen, snatching up some of Fin's leftover Chinese take-out and helping himself. Fin rolled his eyes and made a face at him from behind. "I saw that," stated Cragen, dropping a file on Jenny's desk. "That is the Virginia report on the case Grey's DNA matched," he said, and turned to Benson.

"Finally," muttered Jenny, shoving aside her food and diving for it eagerly.

"Olivia, Elliot, Daphne Tyler is bringing Maddie in to identify Grey in a line-up with his retainer. You two are supervising as soon as she gets here," he added.

"Yeah, got it," Stabler said.

Jenny leaned back in her chair, focusing in on the file. She was tired and stressed out. Grey's defense had managed to stall on his arraignment, attempting to force Cabot's hand in dealing, and Jenny was frustrated with that bitch as well as an onslaught of old nightmares the past few days. It was Wednesday, two days since she'd visited Kelly Gibbs at her house.

"Earth to Jenny," Munch said loudly.

She took the tip of her index finger form her mouth and glared, arching her brow threateningly at his interruption.

"I asked when Kelly Gibbs coming in for pre-trial conditioning?" he repeated, looking annoyed.

Jenny checked her watch.

"The arraignment is at four o'clock," she said. "When we get the results, I'll call her father and set up a time. Tomorrow's best, sooner the better," she said, turning back to the file.

Munch stood up.

"I'll contact Dr. Huang so he can be available to examine her in case the defense makes noise for a competency hearing."

Jenny snorted derisively.

"She's competent," she snarled to herself, scoffing at the idea that Kelly was anything but. She settled in to read this report, already hardened a little by the picture clipped to it of the little girl who had ended up dead three years ago. Her rapist had never been caught, and now here they had a match in Grey's DNA.

Jenny clenched her teeth.

Yet she was barely through the first two paragraph of police details when a young woman walked into the squad room hesitantly, clutching a leather bag and holding a coat over her arm. Jenny looked up, watching, until the woman frowned, looking lost.

"May I help you, ma'am?" she asked, lowering her file.

"Yes," she answered, catching sight of Jenny. "I need to speak to a detective—it's about Logan Grey," she said.

Jenny swept her feet of her desk and straightened, standing up swiftly and finding a chair for the woman. She set it next to her desk and offered it, sitting back down after the woman opposite her did. The lady perched on the edge of the chair, hugging her briefcase in her lap.

"You know Mr. Grey?" Jenny asked, leaning on her desk closer to the woman and meeting her eyes gently.

The woman looked at her. She took a deep breath.

"He's my brother," she said slowly. "I saw the news, about what he did, and I'm here…I'm here to report a rape, I guess," she explained. "Because the first time, you could say I chickened out—I was a just a kid," she said.

Jenny nodded, and took a piece of paper and a pen.

"What's your name, ma'am?" she asked softly, attempting to make her feel comfortable.

"It's Whitney, Whitney Grey," she said steadily. She looked up at Jenny. "I was ten when he raped me," she said. "He was sixteen."

Jenny swallowed and inclined her head, reaching out and covering Whitney Grey's hand with hers. Her gut told her the juvenile restricted file was about to be blown wide open.

* * *

**Wednesday December 8th 1993. Basement of Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Kelly Gibbs, and Elizabeth Gibbs. 11:43 am.**

Leroy Jethro Gibbs ran the sander over his boat carefully and then eyed the smoothed wood critically, brushing off sawdust and blowing it for added effect. Immediately, his youngest daughter leaned forward and blew carefully on the same spot, imitating him daintily, and giggling proudly when he grinned at her.

"Look okay, Liz?" he asked seriously.

"All-righty!" she agreed, patting the newly smoothed rib of the boat fondly. She flashed her white baby teeth again and wrinkled her nose, falling down on her bottom and returning to brushing the hair of Kelly's hand-me-down doll.

Jethro nodded appreciatively and set the sander down, up for taking a break. He made sure Elizabeth was sitting in the center of the boat so she wouldn't fall and turned towards the workbench to replace some of his tools, glancing at Kelly.

His eldest was sitting on a stool in the counter, layered up in warm winter clothes, her nose buried in a book. Her eyes were still a little red, but she had slept much better the past couple of days. The bruise on her cheek was healing, but it still made him seething mad when he looked at it.

He picked up the mason jar he was drinking out of and wandered over to Kelly, leaning against the counter next to her and nudging her.

"You still with us, Kel?" he teased. She got so wrapped up in her books sometimes. Shannon used to think it was cute, until Jethro started flicking paper bits at her until she noticed and stuck her tongue out at him.

As usual, it took Kelly a moment to blink and look up and focus on him. She lowered her book and peeked over the edge, nodding slowly. Jethro smiled at her and tilted his head.

"Is that one of Mom's?" he asked.

Kelly nodded again.

"It's _Jane Eyre_, it was her favorite, remember? Because she said Mr. Rochester was mean like you," Kelly wrinkled her nose. Jethro smiled and put his arm around her shoulders gently, pulling her head towards him fondly.

"I remember," he muttered.

He leaned back and gave her a look.

"You think I'm mean?"

"_No_," she said, grinning a little and shaking her head. She closed the book in her lap. Elizabeth giggled to herself, having messily tied the doll's hair up in pigtails like the ones Kelly always dressed Lizzy herself in.

"Does Lizzy think I'm mean?" Jethro asked seriously, lowering his voice.

Kelly rolled her eyes.

"Lizzy loves everybody," she said airily.

Jethro looked at his semi-toddler and shifted his shoulders uncomfortably. Sometimes he didn't know if it was a good or bad thing that Elizabeth was so friendly and so warm towards everyone. He knew she was fiercely attached to him, but she also had a preference for women that made his heart ache when he missed Shannon.

Jethro folded his arms and looked between his girls briefly.

"You hungry yet, Kelly?" he asked. She shrugged and threw her book on the counter, tilting her head up as if she were thinking about it.

"Hmm…can you make…hamburgers?" she ventured.

"I think I can manage that," Jethro answered solemnly, taking a drink of his coke. He usually opted for soda when the girls were present. Elizabeth gasped and leapt up, dragging a half-naked Barbie doll with her.

"French fries!" she cried excitedly.

"Nuh-uh, Lizzy-beth, onion rings are better," Kelly said immediately.

Elizabeth promptly stuck her tongue out.

"I'll cut that off, Liz," Jethro said mildly, raising an eyebrow. She sucked it back in and giggled, covering her face. She scampered to the edge of the boat and Kelly slipped off her stool. "Help her down," Jethro murmured, nodding at Elizabeth and starting up the stairs, abandoning his mason jar to the workbench.

He was in the kitchen, refrigerator open, when he heard them come loudly up the basement stairs, Elizabeth giggling loudly, Kelly's older footsteps chasing after her. He glanced through the bar in the kitchen to the living room, watching as Elizabeth dashed in and Kelly grabbed her, and both of them tumbled onto the couch, giggling.

"DADDDDDDY!" screamed Elizabeth breathlessly, as Kelly tickled her.

"What, Liz? Can't hear you, sorry."

"Daddy, HELP! KELLY—," Elizabeth burst into giggles.

Jethro smirked and let them play, aware Kelly would never do a harmful thing to her baby sister—or anyone, for that matter. He went about making lunch for them, thinking over the past few days.

It was like it had happened in a blur. He'd been in the nursery with Lizzy, trying to get her to sleep through her fever, tired and stressed, annoyed he was missing Kelly's recital, and then he'd gotten the call from that redhead detective.

It was the worst feeling in the world, when he listened to her tell him what had happened to Kelly, and then when he'd listened to Kelly tell him. He was so angry and so…he couldn't even describe it. He'd been in war and seen those horrors, and he dealt with sadists and sickos at work, and Shannon's death had been by no means easy, but there was nothing worse than this.

"Hey, what do you want to drink?" he asked loudly, waiting for an answer.

He didn't get an answer, and then Elizabeth darted into the kitchen and grabbed his knees, squealing.

"Save me!"

Kelly jumped around the corner and held up her arms, growling. Elizabeth shrieked and Jethro rolled his eyes, prying her off and swinging her up into his arms sideways. She giggled and dangled her head, waving her hands at Kelly teasingly.

"Daddy saved me," she announced with a laugh.

"_Humpf_," Kelly scoffed, putting her hands on her hips. "Daddy won't always be there to save you," she said eerily.

Jethro winced, the offhand comment hitting him like a punch in the gut. He swallowed hard and pulled a few different juice choices out of the fridge, acutely reminded that he hadn't been there to save Kelly.

"Which one, kiddo?" he asked a little hoarsely, nodding at the options.

"Apple!" Elizabeth decided wholeheartedly. Kelly came up to the counter and picked up the others, whirling around to put them up. "I'll have apple too," she said helpfully. Deftly, Jethro readied Elizabeth's sippy cup and Kelly's glass while still holding the littlest one on his hip.

"Pretty good, huh?" he asked Elizabeth, wriggling his eyebrows.

"Awesome," Elizabeth obliged, holding up her hand for a high five. Jethro grinned and gave her one, returning to lunch to finish up.

"Kelly, can you get plates and…" he heard her doing it already and shook his head, plopping Elizabeth on the counter and fixing up the food.

"Mine," Elizabeth informed him, pointing to Kelly's plate.

"Kelly's," Jethro corrected. "You don't like ketchup," he told his three-year-old.

"Yeah-HUH."

"Nu-uh," he responded immaturely. "You like bar-b-q," he reminded her, fixing hers next. She blew her hair out of her face and looked at the plate. Kelly appeared and took it from Jethro as he swept Elizabeth onto the floor and smacked her gently on the butt to get her to follow her sister to the table.

"Kelly, can we put TV on the play channel—"

"Elizabeth, you have to say 'the TV', okay? And—"

"And no TV while you eat," Jethro growled sternly. He watched while they sat down and started eating, falling quiet as they did so, and he busied himself cleaning up, barely taking an eye off of either of them as he did so.

He had no idea what was supposed to happen now, or how life was supposed to go on. He felt like Kelly was supposed to be a mess and everything was supposed to fall apart, but it just seemed surreal, like it was an event that happened that was removed from their lives. Elizabeth still smiled, Kelly was still intelligent and responsible and sweet, except he thought there was something different to her actions even if he couldn't put his finger on it.

She had quieted down a little. Understandably, she couldn't sleep, and sometimes, she would curl up next to him and stay silent while he worked. He was careful with her, unsure how to help her or treat her.

He wanted blood. His anger towards and his hatred of the bastard who had taken so much from her was bottled beneath the surface, pushed aside because he needed to be there for Kelly, and he couldn't afford to just lose it when he had she and Lizzy to take care of. He wanted him dead, though. He wanted to look the guy in the eye when he shot him.

Drying his hands now, he came out of the kitchen and looked at them, smirking as Elizabeth took her burger apart and ate it bit by bit, ignoring the entire concept of a hamburger. Kelly hadn't made a speck of a mess, as was characteristic of her. She was just like her mother—where Elizabeth was all Jethro.

"Elizabeth, after lunch, naptime," he announced.

She pursed her lips at him and widened her eyes like a puppy. He pretended to cover his eyes and shook his head solemnly.

"Not gonna work, baby. You've been running amok all week," he growled.

"Amok," Elizabeth repeated childishly. He glared at her good and hard and she smiled brightly. "Okay Daddy. Nap," she agreed sweetly.

When she finally decided she couldn't possibly mutilate her lunch anymore and her apple juice was gone, he coaxed her into the nursery for her nap, managing to knock her out in a book and a half and trying to sneak out only twice.

He went quietly back to the table. Kelly was sitting in her chair, her legs drawn up under her chin, staring at her half-finished plate and juice thoughtfully.

"Kelly?" he asked. "You done?"

She looked up at him with wide blue eyes, shrugging.

"I'm not hungry," she said softly, as if she expected him to yell at her. He considered her and held back a sigh of frustration, nodding instead. He just took her things back into the kitchen and left them, planning to deal with them later. He paused, leaning against the counter for a minute, before he went back in.

"I've been thinkin'," he muttered, pulling out a chair next to her and leaning forward on his knees. "This weekend, we can go see Mom at Arlington, just you and me. And I figure it wouldn't be such a bad idea if we checked out the Humane Society for a puppy?"

Kelly looked at him, pressing her cheek into her knee, and then lifted her head, twisting her mouth thoughtfully and biting her lip.

"You said I couldn't have a puppy," she said uncertainly.

He shrugged.

"You were six, honey, and Lizzy was a newborn," he justified. She considered him intently for a minute and then leaned her head back against the chair, looking down a minute before she met his eyes again.

"You're just letting me because he raped me," she said softly. He was caught off guard by the remark and looked at her helplessly, unable to respond.

"Kelly, I," he said, struggling with what to say. "I just want to help you feel better, Kelly," he said pleadingly.

"I know," she said quietly. She reached up and rubbed her eye with the palm of her hand, her lips shaking suddenly. "It feels like you think I'm different though, Daddy," she whimpered hesitantly. "You look at me differently," she whispered. "Is there something wrong with me?"

"_No_," he growled firmly. "No, Kelly, there is _nothing_ wrong with you. You have to understand that. I promise that nothing has changed; I don't think you're any less _my_ Kelly than you were a week ago, okay? I'm just—" he broke off, and moved his chair closer to her, taking her cheek in his hand gently and rubbing her tears away. "I am very angry that someone touched you, and I'm very angry that you're hurting," he rested his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "I'm sorry I wasn't there, Kelly," he said hoarsely.

"It's okay, Daddy," she murmured tearfully, shaking her head a little. "I want things to go back to normal," she said shakily. He pulled her a little closer and slipped his arm around her, tucking her into the crook of his arm. She pulled her knees under her.

She stayed silent a little while.

"Dad?" she ventured, a little steadier than earlier. He grunted in response and she looked up at him, chewing on her bottom lip. Her eyes were red and watery again. "I want to talk to Jenny," she said hesitantly.

"You know you can talk to me, Kelly," he offered mildly.

"Jenny was hurt like me," was all Kelly said. "She told me."

"Oh," Jethro said, his voice quiet with understanding. God, there was so much evil in the world. He hesitated and straightened a little. "We've got to talk about Jenny, Kelly, and a few other things."

"I know we have to go to court," she said in a small voice.

"You're too smart for you own good, munchkin," he said pointedly. Kelly smiled a little, and it was the most beautiful thing to him.

"I can do it, Daddy," she said seriously. He nodded at her words. He had no doubt she had the guts. She was his kid, after all. She leaned back in her chair, pulling away from him a little. She shrugged, reaching up to rub her eyes furiously again. "I think I want a kitty," she murmured decisively. "Lizzy would steal my puppy."

Jethro smirked, nodding affirmatively. He hated cats, but if that's what she wanted, fine. Kelly looked at him and reached for her juice, holding it for a moment before she took a drink.

"Can I go back to school tomorrow?" she asked slowly. "I don't like being home all day," she revealed softly. "I think about him hurting me too much," she mumbled.

Jethro reached for her and kissed the top of her head fiercely, his heart throbbing when he heard her say it. He guessed the quiet easiness of an unstructured day _did_ give her too much time to think.

"School it is," he allowed, giving her a teasing look. "_Dork_," he called her affectionately, and she giggled, sticking her tongue out at him before she took another drink of apple juice.

* * *

**Wednesday December 8th 1993. Outside District of Columbia Courthouse. 3:08 pm. **

Jenny caught ADA Alex Cabot as she was coming out of the courthouse, wrapped up in a soft blue leather coat and a darker blue scarf. The blonde smiled in relief when the redhead offered her a cup of Starbucks coffee and took it gratefully.

"Good ending?" Jenny asked, falling into step with Alex and jerking her head at the courthouse.

Alex tilted her head uncertainly.

"Decent," she decided. "I'm a personal advocate of prison over civil commitment, but so long as the woman's rapist is off the streets, I'll take it."

Jenny nodded in agreement and lifted her coffee to her lips.

"What can I do you for, Jenny?" Alex asked.

Jenny swallowed slowly, thinking over what she'd uncovered this day. She'd been through the Virginia rape file quite a few times, and Whitney Grey's story was still ringing in her ears.

"The Gibbs case," she began.

"Ah," Alex said, nodding her head. "I know, I know. I'm about to look over it again—arraignment's in an hour," she started, but Jenny cut her off, placating a little.

"There's more to it," she said carefully. "I had the Virginia precinct in possession of the case file containing the DNA Kelly's rapist matched send it over and went through it," she said.

"Recent? Same MO? Anything is good, particularly if there's another victim," Alex said rapidly.

"No, this little girl ended up dead," Jenny said quietly. "More than that. I got the story behind the padlocked juvenile file."

"How did you wrangle that?" Alex asked skeptically.

Jenny looked over at her sideways, tapping her coffee cup.

"Complaining victim," she said pointedly. "Logan Grey's little sister. She gave me all of it."

Alex paused, stepping to the side of the path they were on to move out of the way. Shivering a little in the icy wind, Jenny followed suit, stepping closer so they could speak quietly.

"How many years ago?" Alex asked professionally.

"She was ten when it happened," Jenny said reluctantly.

"Statute of limitations is up," murmured Alex, Jenny nodded, and Alex looked at her. "After arraignment, when I see where his attorney's going to take this, I bet I can get her in as a character witness—depending on the judge."

"You have to, Alex," Jenny said carefully. "She recanted her testimony thirteen years ago because she was scared. She needs this. She feels responsible," she explained earnestly.

Alex nodded.

"I understand," she agreed. "I can work the law to my advantage, Jenny, but I can't break it, so brace yourself for an answer you might not like," she warned in a murmur.

Jenny took an impassive sip of her coffee, narrowing her eyes. She shrugged, indicating she found Alex's words fair enough. She had wanted to catch her before the indictment though, just to rile her up a little, get her seething.

"Is Grey the definite perp for the Virginia case?" Alex asked, leaning against a building they'd stopped next to. Jenny nodded, her brow darkening a little.

"The DNA match is spot on, there's no arguing that. Munch checked Grey's past residency and he lived and worked just two miles south of where the girl was raped and left dead—she was nine-years-old—same sort of haphazard, messy crime, except he wasn't interrupted. We're lucky someone heard Kelly Gibbs screaming or—"

"Yeah, we might not even have an inkling," Alex sighed.

"And she might be dead," Jenny growled.

"She's not," Alex said simply, pointing out the bright side. "And she has the opportunity to see her rapist put in jail. It's a good feeling."

"It's a better feeling to see him dead," Jenny responded mildly. Alex gave her a small, knowing smirk and Jenny returned it, taking another silent sip of her coffee.

"You on your way back to the station house?" Alex asked. Jenny nodded.

"I was on my way back from running Maddie Tyler and her mother home after Grey's second line up. Stabler brought them in. Figured you could use a pick-me-up," she explained, pushing off the wall and starting towards where her police issue car was parked.

"All I need is you to tell me Maddie Tyler correctly identified Logan Grey," Alex responded firmly. Jenny grinned.

"Picked him out of a photo line-up and knew his voice off the bat, and that's with three other speech impaired inmates," she said a little proudly.

Alex whistled.

"Damn, why can't all the witnesses be this good?"

"Kids are the best," Jenny said airily, leaning over the top of the car. She arched an eyebrow. "Fancy a chauffeured drive back to the station?" she asked gallantly, gesturing to the front seat. Alex grinned, looking at the bars in the car and the lights on top.

"Guess I could forgo my beloved metro," she said with a shrug, wrenching open the door.

Jenny rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

* * *

**Wednesday December 8th 1993. District of Columbia Courthouse. Arraignment of Logan Grey. 4:00 pm. **

"Case on the docket 576, District of Columbia vs. Logan Grey, come forward," Judge Petrovsky's sharp, no-nonsense voice rang around the courtroom as Alex Cabot took her place on the prosecutor's side opposite Logan Grey and his dragon of a defense.

Detectives Shepard and Munch were behind her, watching the arraignment intently.

"Bail, counselor?" asked Petrovsky.

"Remand, your honor," Alex offered immediately.

"Your honor, my client is _hardly_ a flight risk. He makes a meager salary at pizzeria, for god's sake, I can't imagine why Miss Cabot—"

"Your client did not seem so concerned about his salary when he left the premises of the pizzeria to rape an eight-year-old child," Cabot interrupted sharply.

"Counselors," Petrovsky warned. She looked at Alex. Alex cleared her throat and went on.

"Your honor, the defendant is a threat to the community and has offended before—his crime was a violent attack on an innocent child and frankly, I don't think you want him on the streets anymore than I do," she explained.

"My client was not in control of his actions when he attacked his victim," the defense began immediately. "He has a psychological deficiency that snapped, he regrets what happened and is not a risk to society—"

"You're _still_ going for a psych defense?" asked Alex incredulously.

"Enough, counselors," Petrovsky said, tapping her gavel pointedly. "While I see your client is hardly a flight risk at all, Ms. Spitzer, I agree with Miss Cabot in that the citizens of DC do not want him roaming the streets freely. I see no evidence in this report that indicates psychological problems however with holding cells overcrowded; I'm reluctant to order remand. Bail is set at one million," she banged her gavel one more time and gave Logan Grey a good looking over, "though from what I see, there is no one to make it for you. Trial is set to begin Tuesday."

Alex turned to the detectives and Jenny nodded at her, seeming to accept it for the best they could get.

"Next on the docket," Petrovsky shouted, as they were moving away.

"I didn't, Ms. Spitzer," Grey said suddenly. "I didn't mean to hurt that little girl. She looked so pretty in her outfit. We were in love, you see, she smiled at me—I didn't hurt her at all," he mumbled.

Jenny turned sharp green eyes on him, staring hard into his face. His words spoke the psychotic babble, but it didn't reach his calm, controlled eyes. If he thought he could pull this off, he had a whole other thing coming. He lunged towards her as he walked out with Spitzer, his defense, grinning a little.

"You'll tell her? I did think she was pretty," he said slowly.

She felt Munch put a hand on her shoulder gently.

"Get him out of my sight," snarled Jenny at Spitzer, and the other woman led him away, hushing him sharply.

"Will they get away with this?" Jenny growled, rounding on Alex. Alex made a face, heading out of the courtroom as the next arraignment began. They moved through the throng of people out the doors, stepping to the side out of the way.

"I doubt it, but it's a tactic, an angle to try to draw out the case…"

Jenny looked over as Whitney Grey stood up from a bench and came over hesitantly, looking at Jenny. Alex fell silent as she approached and Jenny nodded, touching Whitney Grey's shoulder encouragingly.

"Alex, this is Whitney Grey," she introduced.

"Alex Cabot, I'm the prosecutor on the case," she said politely, extending her hand. Whitney took it shyly, shaking confidently.

"I saw him," Whitney said slowly, turning to Jenny. "I saw Logan, but he didn't see me. It all came rushing back, you know?" she murmured.

Jenny nodded. Whitney looked at Alex with big grey eyes.

"Detective Shepard says I have to speak with you. I want to speak at his case, I," she paused. "I took back what I said when I was ten, and they charged him with physical assault. He got community service instead," she shook her head angrily. "Now look what he's done. I heard about that little girl on the news. If I'd been brave enough when he raped me…" she trailed off, clenching her teeth. "I can help, right?" she asked.

"We'll see, Miss Grey—"

"Please call me Whitney," she said earnestly.

"Whitney," Alex obliged, reaching out and placing a hand on her shoulder. "Do you have a moment now? We can go over some details, and I'll fill you in on what might happen if you're allowed to testify," she said.

Whitney nodded.

"Anything," she said steadily, and Alex led her off towards her office in the courthouse.

"Hold up, Alex," Munch said, and the blond turned back expectantly. "When do you want to see Kelly Gibbs for pre-trial?" he asked.

Alex chewed her lip.

"You think she could be ready tomorrow?" she asked, her eyes flicking to Jenny.

Jenny nodded certainly.

"She can do it," she confirmed. Alex nodded affirmatively.

"Get her to the precinct tomorrow, then. Be prepared to get slapped with a competency hearing, though," she said bitterly. "Kelly cried an awful lot during the line-up, they may use emotional distress to throw out her testimony."

"The hell they will," Jenny said simply, perfectly sure she could help Kelly enough to get her through the entire thing with dry eyes. Alex smirked and made her way off again, leaving Munch and Jenny alone in the lobby of the courthouse.

"I'm guessing you'll call," he said.

"You wanted to?" she feigned innocence and grinned cheekily at him.

"Nah, I wouldn't steal your thunder," he said sarcastically. "You've made this case your baby," he remarked.

Jenny shrugged.

"Maybe you were right, John," she said flippantly. "Maybe she does remind me of me."

Munch looked at her for a moment.

"So…does that mean I get a prize?" he asked slowly, and Jenny laughed, swatting him in the arm with a roll of her eyes.

* * *

**Wednesday December 8th 1993. NCIS. Abby Sciuto's Lab. 6:09 pm.**

"_Because, because, because, because, BECAUSE! Because of the wonderful things he does_!"

Abby Sciuto was busy twirling around in her lab, belting out the lyrics to the Wizard of Oz, observed unbeknownst to her by Special Agents Mike Franks and Tony DiNozzo. The two men watched in amusement and then looked at each other, unable to decide who should shake her out of it first.

It turned out not to be necessary, as suddenly, the twirling stopped and she stood still to take a breath, saw them, and jumped a mile, her pigtails flying.

"Sneaky agents!" she cried, pointing an accusing finger at them. "This is why I had my bubble wrap on the floor! Mean Gibbs…he made me throw it away," she grumbled, prancing over to them in platforms and dog collars. She looked past them hopefully.

"No Gibbs, Abs," Tony said.

Her face fell.

"What do you expect, sweet cheeks?" Mike asked gruffly. "He'll never let those girls out of his sight again."

"Whatcha doin' Abs?" Tony asked with interest, strolling into the room.

"Running Balboa's hairs, Pacci's carpet fibers, your ballistics, and SVU's DNA."

"Busy Abby-bunny," Tony said.

"Girl," barked Mike, turning a sharp glare on her. "I told you to get the SVU case outta your head. It ain't our business."

Abby gave him a look and stamped her foot. Her eyes filled with tears on cue and both men winced, unable to handle the spirited Goth's sympathetic tears.

"I want to do everything I can to make that guy pay for what he did to Kelly!" she said seriously.

"Yeah, so do we," grumbled Tony, his shoulders slumping a little. "They caught him, Abs, they're gonna put him in jail.

"I'm making sure they have every scrap of evidence possible—" she broke off suddenly. "I want Gibbs to kill him!" she shouted petulantly.

"And just what do you think you're gonna find, honey?" Mike asked antagonistically, ignorning her passionate comment.

"Stop calling me honey, or I'll make Gibbs kick you again," she growled at him. "NCIS has bigger resources we might find—" her computer went off excitedly behind her and she froze, turning, darting to it. Her neck straightened and she gasped. "…something," she finished quietly.

Mike and Tony looked at each other.

"Uh, you found something?" Tony guessed.

Abby turned around slowly, her eyes filling again. She swallowed hard.

"SVU databases only cover the District of Columbia, Maryland, and Virginia," she said quietly. "Logan Grey's DNA just matched six cold case rape-homicides in Delaware and North Carolina," she said hoarsely.

Tony's face blanched.

Mike swore under his breath.

"Give me a phone," Abby said darkly.

"You will not call Probie and tell him this, Abby," Mike growled seriously. "He will take that bravo marine sniper rifle and shoot him and then none of us can save 'im."

She shook her head and pick-pocketed Tony's phone, scrambling in her shelves for papers and pulling one out. She dialed, waited, and then Mike and Tony heard her say:

"I need to speak with Detective Jennifer Shepard. It's serious."

* * *

**Wednesday December 8th 1993. Washington DC 14th Precinct; SVU. 6:10 pm.**

Jenny had her feet up on her desk again. It was her favorite way to lounge at her desk. She listened to the phone ring slowly, the tip of her ink pen in her mouth characteristically.

"Hi! It's Lizzy!" someone on the other end said brightly.

"Daddy, Lizzy answered the phone again," she heard Kelly shout, and then heard a few scuffling noises.

"Hello?" Kelly said maturely.

Jenny laughed.

"Hi, Kelly. It's Jenny," she said nicely.

"Oh, Jenny," Kelly said sweetly. "Hello."

"How are ya, Kelly?"

She paused slightly.

"I'm okay," she said softly. "Daddy's not," she offered suddenly. Jenny smiled, shaking her head a little.

"Who is it, Kel?"

"Hey, I need to talk to your father, Kelly, you mind?" she asked seriously.

"No, it's okay," she said. "He's coming. Is it about me?" she asked.

"Yes," Jenny answered honestly. "Nothing bad, though."

"It's about the trial?" Kelly prompted.

"Good guess," Jenny said.

"Here's my dad," Kelly said softly.

"Jethro," Jenny said, when she heard the phone handed off.

"Detective," he said distractedly. "Just a _minute_, Liz—you got somethin'?" he asked her, focusing completely.

Jenny pulled her pen away from her mouth and leaned forward, tapping it on a pad of paper in front of her that bore all of the information.

"Grey's arraignment went fairly smoothly. Bail is set at one million and the trial is set to start Tuesday," she said.

"When do you need Kelly?" he asked gruffly.

"I'd like to see her tomorrow," Jenny answered.

"She wants to go back to school," he said hesitantly.

"She does?" Jenny asked, her brows going up. "Okay, let her. I can do after school, if that works? Four o'clock?"

He went silent for a moment and then sighed heavily.

"Yeah. She's supposed to have ballet but," he paused. "She doesn't want to go."

Jenny frowned a little and swallowed, clicking her pen.

"That's normal, Jethro," she said gently. "She associates it with her rape—"

"She loves ballet. I don't want her to quit," he growled.

"Maybe she won't," Jenny said helpfully. "If she doesn't want to go just yet, don't make her. It," she hesitated briefly. "Those stretches and whatnot will most likely hurt her anyway. She wants to go to school, Jethro, that's a good sign. Don't push her."

He stayed silent again.

"What are you going to do to her tomorrow?" he asked shortly.

Jenny winced, not exactly thrilled to have him ask it like that.

"The ADA is going to walk her through the trial so she's ready for whatever they throw at her, and she might have to talk to our psychiatrist—Dr. George Huang, he's FBI," she offered, trying to make Jethro feel more comfortable.

"Great. FBI," he muttered, and she smiled.

"DADDY!" screamed a small voice in the background.

He sighed, frustration evident. Jenny bit her lip, opting not to tell him about Whitney Grey and the Virginia Girl just yet. He sounded stressed, and it sounded like Elizabeth had gone wild.

"Daddy, Kelly is crying _AGAIN_."

"I have to go," he said automatically, his voice tense.

"Yeah," she said tiredly. "Hang in there," she muttered reflexively. He hung up without another word and Jenny put the phone down, leaning back and rubbing her face. She clenched her fist, pressing it into her forehead.

She was glad the squad room was practically empty.

Distressed, she tilted her head back and blew stray hairs out of her face, crossing her legs and pushing back from her desk. She knew how Kelly was feeling. She knew the shame, the irrational guilt, and the fear. That little girl was so smart. She had so much potential. Jenny desperately did not want to see it fade away.

Her phone startled her and she almost lunged forward, snatching it off the cradle.

"Shepard," she barked tensely.

"Detective Jenny—I mean, um, Shepard? This is Abby Sciuto, I'm the forensic scientist at NCIS—I'm faxing some things over to your precinct right now, you have to put that bastard in jail…"

Jenny sat back slowly as she listened to the hysteric young woman talk, her face draining of colour. She felt sick to her stomach and dizzy. As it turned out, Kelly Gibbs had been luckier than she could have imagined.

* * *

**Wednesday December 8th 1993. Home of Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Kelly Gibbs, and Elizabeth Gibbs. 6:28 pm. **

Kelly curled up in the big pink armchair in her room, hugging a pillow and her favorite book close, her lip trembling as she tried to hold back more tears. She was annoyed because crying was dumb and she didn't want Daddy to see it and Lizzy had ratted her out.

Daddy came in, done talking to Jenny, and sat down on her bed, his hands in his lap, looking at her worriedly. She wished he didn't look so worried. He never used to seem like that, he always smiled at her and made goofy faces, and now he just looked sad and careful. She knew he said she wasn't different, but she was.

"Daddy," she cried suddenly, tears rolling down her face. "Daddy, _please_ stop looking at me like that!"

He blinked, his mouth opening. He got up swiftly and came over, crouching down in front of her and reaching out. His eyebrows knit together like he was confused and she sucked in her breath, sniffling a little.

"Like what, Kelly?" he asked sincerely. "Tell me what I'm doing wrong," he pleaded.

She pulled the pillow up to her mouth, trembling.

"I don't know," she whispered. "You said I didn't look different, but you think I am. You look at me like…sad, I don't understand, but I don't _like_ it. I'm trying not to be scared, okay," she sobbed, hiding her face from him. "It's like you can see what he _did_, Daddy, but I don't want you t-to-to-see," she stopped talking, her words mumbling together.

His heart dropped in his chest, making him feel sick and horrified. He didn't want to be the one causing her pain, and seeing her like this killed him. He reached out and took her arm, tugging on her gently.

"Kelly," he said thickly, clearing his throat. "Kelly, look at me, _now_," he ordered more sharply.

She responded to the tone immediately, looking up at him with wide, liquid blue eyes. He almost glared at her, he was so determined to get his point across.

"You are allowed to be scared," he said firmly. "Kelly, you're my daughter, and I love you. Nothing is going to change that, I mean it honey, _nothing_. Do you understand me? I see my little girl when I look at you, okay? Kelly?"

She swallowed, her breath catching a little, calming down her sobs. She nodded slowly as she looked at him.

"Okay," she said shakily, in a small voice. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head fiercely.

"Do not apologize to me, Kelly Marie, you didn't do anything wrong," he stroked her hair back, softening his tone a little. "I'm not mad at you, baby. I just don't want anyone to touch you again. I'm scared someone's going to hurt you," he said hoarsely.

She smiled a little.

"You don't get scared," she scoffed.

He returned the smile weakly.

"Kelly still sad?" Lizzy piped up tentatively, inching up next to Jethro's knee uncertainly. He didn't know when she'd wandered in. She looked up at them worriedly, her littler blue eyes big and shiny. Jethro didn't trust himself to say much. "I'm not scared, KK," she said, scrambling up into the chair with her sister, using the old nickname she'd come up with when she couldn't say 'Kelly'. "I protect you," she said fiercely, baring her teeth and making claws with her hands.

Kelly giggled, her eyes lighting up a little. She wrapped her arm around Lizzy and grabbed her close, sitting up a little. Elizabeth squirmed and squealed, beaming. Jethro looked at his girls, clenching his jaw.

He wished their mother was here.


	6. The Sixth

_A/N: I upload this before I embark upon my much-anticipated, rigorously studied for AP United States history test. _

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* * *

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**Thursday December 9th 1993. Washington DC 14th Precinct; SVU. 3:54 pm. **

Jenny Shepard had been up all night. Her neck and shoulders hurt. Her eyes ached and she knew her make-up was smeared and hardly hiding the red rims and dark bags. She rubbed her hands over her face again, the files Abby Sciuto has sent over swimming nauseatingly before her eyes.

Six rape-homicides. All young girls between the ages of five and ten. All snatched from public places without warning, left in alleys dead, with copious physical evidence and yet no leads, no hits in the system. And Logan Grey's DNA matched all of them. If Secret Service police hadn't arrived so quickly, Kelly's haphazard rape could have ended in murder.

"How long has it been since you've eaten?" Munch asked gruffly, falling into his chair across the aisle. She didn't answer. Her voice was probably shot to hell anyway. "Take a break from that stuff, Jen, it's making you pale."

She looked up at him, her forehead cradled in her palm.

"How does someone not catch this guy? How does it get this far?" she asked huskily, shaking her head in anger. "What am I going to tell Agent Gibbs?"

"He works for the government, he'll understand."

"No," she shook her head. "No, and why should he? Why the fuck should he? John…this is so simple. He grabs, them rapes them, runs off. No finesse, hardly any modus operandus—how does he get away with it for thirteen years?"

Munch sighed heavily.

"Some people just do, Jenny. It happens," he said bitterly.

She ran her hand over her mouth and bit her lip harshly, ignoring the brief pain. Her eyes flicked to the clock on the wall. She grimaced, noting the time. It was nearing four o'clock, and the man she spoke of would be here with Kelly soon.

She hated to have to tell him this. She wondered if Mike Franks already had. She would give NCIS a call, but she needed to buck up first. She had been here all night.

"You're not sleeping again," Munch remarked.

"No," she said in agreement.

"Which nightmare?" he asked quietly.

Jenny looked over at him, shoving the papers all together in a pile and standing up, shaking her head. She blinked rapidly, trying to wake herself up a little, and pushed off her desk stiffly. She swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth and glanced at Munch before she left for the bathroom.

"The first time he did it," she said dully, and exited the squad room, shoving violently into the ladies' room.

She splashed water on her face, grabbing a paper towel. She had a spare bag of make-up in her drawer, she could fix that easily. Her hair would have to simply be thrown up into a bun to camouflage the disarray. She could do nothing about the pallor of her skin or the redness of her eyes. So be it.

She exited the bathroom to fetch her bag of make-up, dodging an older detective and moving swiftly.

"Dr. Huang is here, Shep," shouted Fin, and she looked up, shutting her desk drawer.

"Tell him I'm putting on the face I hide behind every day to hide my fragile emotional state and make men think I'm in control," she replied smartly, flashing a smile at Fin as he gave her an uncomfortable look.

Huang would get it; she was simply repeating back a diagnosis he'd given her once about her obsession with having make-up on her face at all times. She whipped back into the bathroom, her expert hands applying make-up with quite an impressive speed.

Yes, she wore it religiously, and she had since she was fourteen. It wasn't likely to change anytime soon, and she was fine with that. She was uncomfortable without it, and she had to embrace being uncomfortable—maybe it didn't make sense, but it made sense when she _did_ it and when Huang _said_ it.

She fixed her hair last. She did what she could about resituating the wrinkles in her clothing, and she left the bathroom again, feeling less helpless than she had all night.

"Hangover?" Alex Cabot's delicate eyebrows rose suggestively from beside Jenny's desk as the redhead returned, slipping her make-up bag back into the drawer.

"Honey, I wish," responded Jenny with a small smile, placing her hand on her hip and perching on the edge of her desk. She frowned. "Munch got in touch with you?"

"About all the priors he matched?" she asked softly. "Yeah. The DA pitched a fit. North Carolina and Delaware are out for blood."

"He's ours," Jenny said softly.

"Don't worry about that. We busted him; we've got the live victim, the evidence, et cetera. We're the only ones with a slam dunk chance of throwing him behind bars. But you bet your ass once I get all of this into the courtroom," she paused, pressing her lips together tightly. "I'll cut his throat in there, and throw him to Virginia's wolves, and they'll noose him with the death penalty."

Jenny narrowed her eyes harshly, biting her lip.

"I should have let Jethro shoot him," she murmured darkly.

"Don't let anyone hear you say that, Jenny," Alex reprimanded sharply. Jenny nodded, closing her mouth. It wouldn't bode well for them if someone happened to overhear the police 'plotting' the defendant's death.

"You make me think of Chief, in the _Fox and the Hound_."

Jenny and Alex both turned their heads at the sound of a younger female voice, interested in the change of conversation. Alex softened her usually harsh looks a bit and Jenny smiled, spotting Munch with Kelly Gibbs and her father in the outer part of the squad room.

"Is that a compliment?" Munch asked Kelly.

"Yes, sir," she said politely, looking up at him brightly. "I like Chief. He is supposed to be the antagonist, but he's just misunderstood. He has lots of lines on his face, too," she added, smiling a little at Munch.

Alex leaned over to Jenny slowly.

"Did that girl just say 'antagonist'?" she asked incredulously.

Jenny nodded.

"I don't doubt it. Ask her what she's been reading lately. You ever heard of an eight-year-old appreciating Charles Dickens?" she responded. Alex gave her a disbelieving look and Jenny smiled, a little proud to tell that about Kelly.

"You guys hear that?" Munch asked loudly. "I'm misunderstood," he informed them.

"You're misunder-somethin'," muttered Fin with a snort.

Munch gave a sad look to Kelly, shaking his head with a sigh. He nodded his head towards Jenny and Alex and led her over, pointing as he walked back and sat on his desk unsteadily.

"You like her better right? Everyone else does," he remarked.

Kelly was dressed in school clothing; jeans, a collared shirt, and a warm sweater over it, the colours matched. Her hair was up in a ponytail and there was a thick, decorative headband holding it back from her face. She smiled at Jenny hesitantly.

"Geez, I get a bigger smile than that, don't I?" Jenny asked, widening her eyes. Kelly laughed and nodded, showing her teeth. "How was your first day back at school?"

Kelly shrugged.

"Not too bad," she said. "I went back on a reading day, so I got another book," she said quietly.

"Anything interesting?" Alex asked helpfully, her voice friendly. Kelly considered her for a moment, remembering her before she answered.

"_The Hobbit_," she said.

"Good book," Jenny said.

"You've read it?" asked Kelly eagerly, coming forward a little. She leaned on Jenny's desk and looked up at her. "The librarian said it was too hard for me," she muttered.

"Don't listen when people tell you that," was all Jenny said in reply. "Nothing's too hard if you put your mind to it."

"You sound like a fortune cookie," Kelly remarked, her eyebrows crinkling. Alex laughed, straightening a little.

"I'm sure you don't want to hang around here all night, Kelly," she said understandingly. "We can go ahead and start practicing if you want, just you and me," she offered.

Jenny took a moment to look at Jethro. He looked straight into her eyes and she could feel how angry he was. He was carrying himself tensely, his jaw was tight, his eyes hard. It was daunting. She now had no doubt that Mike Franks had indeed told him what had been uncovered.

"Are there going to be a lot of people watching?" Kelly asked calmly.

"Not today," Alex answered, "but when we go to court, there might be. That's why I wanted to talk to you first, so you get time to take a deep breath about it before the real thing," she explained. Kelly smiled at her slowly.

"That's nice," she said sincerely. She turned her head and looked at Jethro, and then Jenny. She chewed on her lip. "Is it okay if Jenny stays?" she asked. Alex nodded. "Is Daddy allowed?" was her next tentative question.

"If you want him there," Alex said.

Kelly looked at Jethro. She looked at Jenny and tried to smile, looking uncertain. She seemed torn and Jenny reached over and rubbed her shoulder questioningly. She blinked at Jenny and kept looking at her, then glanced at Jethro.

"I can do it without him," she said softly. "You don't have to listen," she said to him.

"You sure, Kel?" he asked gruffly. Jenny pulled away from the little girl slowly, eyeing Jethro sharply. His daughter nodded firmly, picking up Jenny's pen and clicking it absently.

"This way, Kelly," Alex coaxed, pressing her palm against Kelly's shoulder. "It's too crowded in here," she added.

"Jenny?" Kelly asked. Jenny got off her desk gracefully and straightened, bracing her shoulders in a better posture.

"Give me five minutes, Kelly, promise. Let me talk to your Dad a minute," she said.

Kelly nodded, accepting the answer. She pulled away from Alex and stepped up to Jethro, slipping her arms around his waist. He wrapped his arm quickly around her shoulders and patted the back of her head affectionately. He crouched down somewhat.

"I can be there, Kelly, I don't mind," he said.

She shook her head, glancing at Jenny again. Jenny cleared her throat and Jethro released Kelly, letting her go with Alex. He looked troubled when he turned back to Jenny and she jerked her head over to a more secluded part of the squad room near the lockers.

"She thinks I don't want to hear it," he growled distastefully. Jenny knew he thought he had somehow given his daughter the impression he couldn't stand to think about it. She lifted her shoulder and shook her head.

"She doesn't _want_ you to hear it," she corrected. "It's harder for her to talk about it around you, but she doesn't want you to know that."

"I'm her father, that woman is a stranger to her," he said in a low voice, narrowing his eyes at Jenny as if she had offended him. "Why wouldn't she want me to hear? I already know."

"That's it," Jenny pointed out matter-of-factly. "You are her father. Put yourself in her shoes, and then think of the one person you'd never want to talk about something like this with. It's ten times worse than watching a sex scene in a movie with your dad," she acquainted it with that, because she didn't know how else to put it into words.

He considered her for a minute and backed off, still stiff. He grunted in a non-committal way and Jenny waited for him to say something else; unsure if she should bring up what was lurking beneath the surface.

He put his arm up against the lockers and tightened his jaw.

"She doesn't know," he said dangerously. "About the others. Mike told me while she was at school," he paused, as if composing himself. "Your prosecutor better be damn good, Detective," he growled, looking at her harshly. "He could have killed Kelly."

"He is going to burn, Jethro," she said calmly. "His lawyer is cooking up some bullshit psych defense that Alex is going to blast holes in, and that will be the end of it. I swear to God," her voice was cold.

"I should have killed him," he said softly, and she was reminded of her own words just minutes ago. "He took her innocence. Jail isn't good enough for that bastard."

Jenny studied him a moment. She couldn't find anything to say that would comfort him, so she shrugged it off, refusing to force it.

"I won't keep her waiting," she said simply, moving away from the lockers. Jethro came after her slowly, a muscle in his jaw jumping. "You can watch from observation. I won't tell Kelly you're there."

She led him into the same room he'd once been in when Jenny first took Kelly's statement, and she flicked on the speakers. Alex's voice came through, clear and sharp, talking to Kelly as if she were an adult.

"It won't be hard when you're talking to me, I'm just going to ask you to tell me everything that happened, even the bad parts."

Kelly said something quietly and Jethro strained to her. Jenny hesitated before going in and lowered her voice.

"Is she sleeping better?" she asked, genuinely concerned.

Jethro looked at her impassively.

"I've given her Benadryl the past two nights," he said shortly. Jenny took that as her cue to back off. Leroy Jethro Gibbs was clearly not much of a talker, what she had gotten out of him was apparently to be considered miraculous, and it had been done when he was stressed and distracted.

He looked at her a moment longer and then turned to watch the two way mirror, his eyes on his daughter. Jenny moved towards the door, preparing to enter to join Alex and Kelly.

* * *

"If you get nervous or feel sick, just take a deep breath, and look at me, or Jenny, or someone in the courtroom who makes you feel safe, and remember that he is not allowed to touch you or speak to you," Alex was saying as Jenny slipped in.

"What is his name?" Kelly asked suddenly, sitting on her knees on a bean bag.

Alex glanced at Jenny. Jenny nodded imperceptibly.

"His name is Logan Grey," she told Kelly.

Kelly frowned.

"I thought his name would be bad," she said. Jenny pulled out a chair and sat down, making a show of relaxing. She pushed stray hairs back and crossed her legs Indian style in the chair, opening herself up to Kelly.

"We can call him Godzilla if you want," she suggested, shrugging her shoulders.

"That's mean to Godzilla," Kelly said softly.

Jenny laughed, surprised at the joke, and pleased to hear it.

"Fair enough," she said, leaning back and stretching a little. "Hmmm, what's a better idea?"

"The Rat King," Kelly said quietly. Alex looked at her questioningly and she licked her lips, looking at Jenny. "Last year, in ballet, we saw the _Nutcracker_ at the theatre. The Rat King was the worst part," she said.

"Rat King it is, then," Jenny agreed, nodding her head. She glanced over at Alex and inclined her forehead, coaxing her to go on. Kelly seemed okay to handle this.

"What will happen next is you'll tell me the story just how you told Jenny, or as close to what you told Jenny as possible, and I'll ask you a few questions to help you tell the jury everything they need to know, sound okay so far?"

Kelly nodded, but she looked hesitant. She kept her eyes on Jenny and then turned towards Alex, seeming to gather up some courage.

"The words are hard to say," she said.

"Yes," Alex agreed uncertainly. Jenny stepped in.

"It makes you feel sick," Jenny said, as if having a conversation. "It's like…someone watching you take a shower," she continued. Kelly nodded and Jenny gave her a small smile. "I know, Kelly. The more you say it, the less it hurts to say," she said.

"We'll run through, Kelly," Alex said comfortingly. "I know it doesn't seem like it, but it's like I said earlier, talking to me is the easiest part. After I ask my questions, the other attorney is going to ask her questions, and she won't be as nice."

"Why? She doesn't even know me, she has no reason to be rude," Kelly said.

Jenny smiled. She couldn't get enough of the things that came out of this girl's mouth.

"Her job is to get the Rat King out of trouble," Alex said reluctantly.

"Oh," Kelly said. "She'll try to confuse me?"

Alex nodded.

"She might say things that make you doubt yourself or feel upset, but all you have to do is answer honestly. You look at me if you need to, I'll be right there, and I'll stop her if she makes you feel too upset," Alex said. "She might try to make you feel like you don't know what really happened because you're too young."

"I know what he did," Kelly said. "I can tell her."

"You might be asked to use correct terminology to describe it, and the judge may allow that for the record," Alex said.

"Ew," Kelly said promptly. Jenny giggled. She nodded her head when Kelly looked at her.

"Do you know what the words are?" Alex asked, looking between them.

Kelly blushed, she sat back in her chair and pulled one leg out from under her, propping it up and resting her chin on her knee. She nodded slowly and cut her eyes to Jenny.

"The words for sex, right?" she asked.

"The proper terms for genitals," Alex offered.

"Daddy already talked to me about it. I read some things, too, in one of my Mom's books. I can say the words if they make me. I know how to use them," she said.

"Then I won't make you say them just yet," Alex said with a small smile. "That's pretty much it, as far as the procedure. I'm going to run through it in a minute, if you don't have any questions," she said gently.

Kelly frowned and rested her cheek on her knee. She leaned back in the bean bag chair and sank into it safely, turning her head towards Jenny.

"Is he going to be in there?" she asked.

"Yes, Kelly," Alex answered. Jenny nodded as well.

"I don't want him to be," she said. "I don't want him to look at me. I always feel like he's looking at me," she explained, more to Jenny than to Alex. Jenny looked at her, meeting her blue eyes with empathy.

"I'll be there," she said simply. "Don't look at him. Look at me. And if that doesn't work, think about it. What happened to the Rat King at the end of the _Nutcracker_? And Captain Hook, what happened to him?"

Kelly twisted up her lips thoughtfully, tapping her fingers on her leg. She seemed to make up her mind.

"They lost," she said firmly. She looked at Alex. "We can practice," she said, taking a deep breath.

* * *

Jethro watched, his eyes hard and immovable, alone in the observation room.

It was the second time Alex Cabot had run through questioning Kelly, and the second time, her story had been shakier than the first, though much more informative. It made him sick to hear it, but not like Kelly thought it did.

He wanted to kill the man who hurt her, as simple as that. Trial wasn't good enough, jail wasn't good enough, Hell wasn't even good enough, and Jethro wanted the bastard dead. He wanted Kelly to feel safe and happy. Logan Grey had stolen her childhood from her, as if her mother's death hadn't blackened it enough.

If Shannon were here, this never would have happened. Shannon would have dropped everything to make it to that recital. Shannon would have been able to cure Lizzy with a hug and a kiss. He missed his wife.

He was angry and hurt for Kelly and those other little girls as well, and the sister Grey had raped; Mike Franks had filled him in on all of the details this morning when he took Elizabeth by work to visit Abby.

This should have been prevented, somewhere, it should have been stopped.

He looked away from Kelly's pale, tired little face for a moment and looked at that detective, the sharp, attractive redhead Kelly liked so much. She was still sitting cross-legged in her chair, connecting with Kelly right before his eyes in a way he couldn't anymore.

Kelly said Jenny had been hurt like Kelly was. It irked Jethro. He wanted to know her story, what made her so determined and able to help Kelly. The woman seemed idealistic and independent, and it was a weird mix. And Elizabeth liked her. Elizabeth didn't just fall asleep on anyone.

He wanted this to be over so he could start putting their lives back together. He would do anything for Kelly, for both of his daughters; if there was one thing he wished he could do more than anything it would be to make it so this had never happened to Kelly.

* * *

**Thursday December 8th 1993. Washington DC 14th Precinct; SVU. Breakroom. 6:00 pm.**

"Potato chips or…granola bar?" Jenny asked, tilting her head at the vending machine in the break room.

"Granola," Kelly said decisively.

Jenny punched in the code and Kelly's granola bar thumped into the bottom of the machine. Jenny's own preferred bag of fruit snacks followed and she retrieved both of them, handing the snack off to Kelly.

Jenny plopped down in a chair and Kelly sat across from her as they waited for Dr. Huang to come in. Kelly had gotten sick of the interview room, so Jenny had hunted about for a better place to let Huang perform his evaluation and scrounged up a tape to record it.

"Where's Elizabeth today?" Jenny asked conversationally.

"Grandma is watching her. She stayed with Daddy until we had to come here, but usually she's at daycare or with Grandma when Daddy's working," Kelly frowned slightly and opened her granola bar, picking out a chocolate chip and eating it. "Grandma and Dad fight a lot. They didn't before Mom died, and he doesn't think I hear, but I heard her tell him this was all his fault," Kelly looked up at Jenny sadly, her shoulders slumped. "I don't want Lizzy to think Daddy hurt me."

"I doubt that will ever happen," Jenny assured her. "Your sister adores your father, I can tell, and I don't even know her. This is hard for everyone to handle, Kelly. You're not alone in feeling a thousand different things," she said, picking out a fruit snack from the array.

"I feel alone," she said softly. She furrowed her brow. "I feel like I can't get clean, but that doesn't make sense," she said.

"Yeah it does," Jenny said quietly. "I've felt it."

"Jenny," Kelly said, and Jenny raised an eyebrow encouragingly. "I like the way you talk to me," she complimented.

Jenny laughed a little.

"Any reason I'm so special?" she asked.

"You talk like I'm an adult," Kelly answered. She looked at Jenny earnestly. "The bruises on my legs are still there. It's still sore…between my legs," she said in a whisper, giving Jenny a hesitant glance.

"It will stop hurting, Kelly," Jenny said gently. "A hot bubble bath might help, though, and your favorite book," she added, smiling. Kelly smiled as well, feeling at ease in Jenny's presence. The younger girl felt like Jenny understood without her even having to say anything.

Jenny looked up as she heard footsteps approaching and Dr. Huang walked into the room, his usual genial, friendly smile on his face. His dark eyes crinkled as he saw Kelly and he stuck out his hand for her to shake.

"You must be Kelly," he said amicably. "My name is Dr. George Huang, I'm a psychiatrist."

"Yes sir, you work for the FBI," Kelly said, nodding. "Jenny told me."

George smiled at Jenny and she returned it, still picking her favorite flavor out of the fruit snacks.

"What else did she tell you about me?"

"She said you would help me figure out some things, and you have to give a report to the court," Kelly answered. He nodded, pulling out a chair next to Kelly. Jenny shook her head and stood up, offering him hers.

"I'm going to keep your Dad company," Jenny said brightly, resting her hand on the back of George's chair briefly. "Dr. Huang has to talk to you alone."

Kelly nodded, straightening up a little in her chair. Jenny gave her another quick smile and left the room.

* * *

"Coffee?" Jenny asked shortly as she stalked back into the squad room.

Munch pointed to a fresh pot. She glared out into the darkening night and groaned inwardly, sorry she had to keep Kelly here so long. She poured two mugs, dropping sugar and peppermint only in hers.

"How's the girl holdin' up?" Munch asked.

Jenny sighed and blew hair out of her face, having just come from checking on Kelly and George. She pursed her lips and rolled her neck from side to side.

"She's tough," she said tiredly. "She's tired and she wants her dad, but damn," she trailed off, impressed with Kelly's endurance. She hoped she could show half this much strength at the trial. Jenny rubbed her shoulder hard, trying to work out the ache, and looked around at the slowing squad room. Messy, as usual.

"Where's Gibbs?" she asked.

"Cragen let him sit in interrogation," Munch answered. "He was in the hall but he kept scaring the crap out of the younger cops, so we moved him."

"'Let him'?'" quoted Jenny incredulously. "He _wanted_ to sit in interrogation?"

"Hey, whatever floats his boat," muttered Munch, jerking his thumb over his shoulder towards the very room her spoke of. Jenny swept up the coffee cups, prepared to head that way.

"Jen."

She paused and turned back when Munch called her name. He looked at her intently.

"I know you want to help this girl; I know you want to help her father," he said, "but don't push too hard. It sucks for the rest of us to see you torn up, okay?" he said gruffly.

Jenny smiled halfheartedly.

"I'm sure there was a heartfelt sentiment in there somewhere," she murmured to him.

"That's what you think," he snorted. She rolled her eyes and started to go. He shifted and she sighed, looking at him impatiently, aware he was going to say something else.

"When he takes Kelly home, you go home to. Get some sleep, Jenny."

"You're an old, soft, sweetheart, John," Jenny teased loudly, leaving him grumbling.

* * *

She kicked the interrogation room shut behind her.

"We usually consider it a hard earned privilege to sit in here," she remarked sarcastically, nudging out the chair opposite him at the metal table and sliding the mug of coffee towards him.

It was somewhat like sitting at his dining room table with coffee a few nights ago, except colder, and less comfortable—if the atmosphere had been anywhere near comfortable then. He took the mug silently and nodded to her in thanks.

Jenny looked at him for a moment and lifted her mug to her lips.

"She's almost done," she offered candidly. "Dr. Huang is impressed with her," she said. Jethro made a face, obviously a skeptic of psychiatrists. "I am too. Kelly is very…she's a fighter," she said.

He looked at her sharply, placing his hand over the top of his mug and flexing his fingers.

"She doesn't act like a kid," he said bitterly. "She hasn't since her mother died and _this_," he grit his teeth. "This destroyed whatever was left."

Jenny considered what he said sympathetically. She took a careful sip of the hot coffee and leaned back, pulling her leg up in the chair with her and resting the cup on her knees comfortably. Psychologically, she apparently did this to make herself feel safe and in control, because Huang just refused to believe she liked to sit this way.

"Kelly may have had to grow up too fast," she said thoughtfully, "but Jethro, this has not destroyed her. She's too strong for that. Someone made her that way," she meant what she said.

He grimaced, and shook his head, clenching his fist.

"Shannon," he said. "I was deployed more, just when she was old enough to understand. I didn't see Liz until she was two months old and then Desert Storm hit and then Shannon was," he paused briefly. "dead," he finished dully.

She hadn't asked for a life story, but she appreciated the insight. As much bravery and forbearance as she thought it took to for Kelly's mother to have dealt with Jethro's deployment, she had a feeling half of Kelly's character came from him.

"She'll get through this. You'll get her through this," Jenny championed. "It's a stupid thing to say, but it'll get better."

He took a drink of his coffee, his facial features harsh and drawn. She looked at him intently, studying his dark blue eyes and the firm line of his jaw. He had an old western, Clint Eastwood look to him, gritty and hardworking. Her heart went out to him.

"How is she at home?" she ventured.

He shrugged.

"She's okay, and then it's like she remembers, and she starts crying or won't eat," he paused. "Kelly's not a crier. She never cries. It's like I can't…help her," he said slowly. He looked at Jenny and anger flashed in his eyes, whether at her, she wasn't sure. "She says she doesn't like how I look at her. She thinks I…I think of her differently," he growled, reaching up and rubbing his forehead roughly.

"Jethro," Jenny began pointedly. "You're a male. As much as she loves you and as much as she _knows_ you are never, ever going to hurt her, there's something in her now that holds her back from you because what's she's been through is painful and embarrassing and she knows you're not supposed to know or see because its private. She isn't dividing rape from sex in her mind yet, and you are the man who told her sex was normal. She's confused and she's devastated because everything's been turned upside down," Jenny explained firmly, locking her eyes on to his. "You may not like it, but you probably are treating her differently, not because you don't want her anymore, but because you don't know what she needs."

"She won't tell me. I can't help her," he growled shortly, looking at her like she was the devil sitting in front of him.

"She doesn't know either," Jenny said gently.

"What makes you think you know my daughter better than I do, Detective?" he snarled quietly.

She gave him a sharp look, but didn't answer his question. After a moment, she continued with her original line of thought.

"She is never going to feel like she used to, you have to accept that. If she wants to talk, you have to talk to her, she needs that. You need to answer whatever she asks the best you can," she explained.

"She's too young," he snapped.

Jenny nodded.

"And she's going to ask you things that are way out of her league. Whatever, fine. You can't blow her off. It'll make her feel like her questions are dirty."

He scowled at her, his expression dark. He ran his hand over his mouth again and took a drink of his coffee, setting it on the metal table heavily. He looked at Jenny guardedly and said balefully:

"She wants to talk to you."

"Then I'll talk to her," she answered immediately.

He just glared at her. She knew it probably bothered him that his daughter wasn't clinging to him right now, but she also knew very well that Jethro didn't understand the kind of turmoil rape brought. The added factor of Kelly's youth made it worse because it was so sick and surreal to face.

He leaned forward, narrowing his eyes irately.

"What do I tell her, Jenny," he asked hoarsely, his voice seething. "What do I tell her when she asks me why she was raped? Why someone did this to her?"

Jenny hardly batted an eyelid. She leaned forward, holding his hard glare firmly.

"You tell her there isn't a reason. Don't ever let anyone tell her everything happens for a reason, because cruel and sadistic things never do and that is one bullshit line that will tear her up. Tell her there are bad people in this world but they are outweighed by the good. Tell her it wasn't her fault. Tell her you love her. Tell her it's like war; it happens, and when it's over, there's not one person who can remember why. That's what you tell her."

Jenny answered in a hiss, but it was mostly to keep her own voice from breaking. She told him everything she wished someone had told her. She didn't want Kelly to spend half her like looking for the 'reason' that she'd been raped. There was no method to madness like this and that was the end of it.

Jethro didn't look away. He seemed to be looking at her like he could read her soul and she leaned back a little, perturbed by it. He put his elbows up on the table and covered his face, his brow wrinkling.

"He raped my daughter. He hurt her. He bruised her, scratched her, he's made her cry. I want that sick, miserable, bastard dead and I _want_ Kelly to be happy."

He paused. His jaw was tense where she could see it. His words were hollow and restrained; he was holding back the full force of his rage.

"God, Kelly," he groaned desperately.

Jenny bit her lip. She pushed her chair away decisively and came around the table, sitting on it next to him. She reached out and grabbed his shoulder firmly, rubbing where his hard, tense muscles met his neck.

His shoulder shook imperceptibly beneath her hand.

Jenny squinted her eyes and looked straight at the wall in front of her. She bit down on her lip until she tasted blood and swallowed hard. She squeezed his shoulder, not stupid enough to try and say anything else.


	7. The Seventh

_A/N: And this chapter, in honor of my embarkment on the AP English American Lit & Comp test today. Chapter of Secrets (and 14,864 words) to combat a morning of hell. _

* * *

**Friday December 10th 1993. Home of Jennifer Shepard. 10:16 a.m.**

Jenny Shepard pushed her damp hair back off of her face, licking her lips. She closed her eyes lightly and took a deep breath, relaxing her muscles, calming down, cooling off. She shivered and pulled her silk robe closed over her bare skin, suddenly chilly as sweat dried on her body.

This was therapy she could live with.

It was what she was supposed to do to relieve the stress and make her sleep easy. There was some psycho-sexual logic behind it that she once understood, but all she cared now was that it worked and it felt damn good.

She tilted her head to look at the clock, blowing air out between her lips. Her phone rang shrilly next to her on the bedside table and she swallowed hard, rolling over and fumbling for it. It rang again, hurting her ears, and she collapsed onto her back again, pushing the talk button.

"Shepard," she answered, opening her eyes wide.

"You sound out of breath," remarked the male voice on the other end, which she immediately recognized as Stabler's.

"I am out of breath," she growled back, rolling her eyes.

"I'm not interrupting anything you'd like to share with the class, am I?" he probed wickedly, snickering into the phone.

"Not at all, I was finished, thanks," she responded, blunt and ambiguous. She sat up slowly, rubbing her neck gently, and she crinkled her nose. "What do you want, Elliot?"

"Yeah, right, I called for something," he muttered. "Hey, I know your shift doesn't start 'til four, but Huang's about to evaluate Grey, judge's orders. You wanna come in, see if the psych defense holds up?" he asked.

She cleared her throat and widened her eyes again, trying to see clearly.

"Yeah, thanks for the heads up," she said shortly. She checked the clock. It was just past ten o'clock, and she hadn't checked what time she'd woken up from her nightmare this morning. She figured she'd gotten a decent sleep after throwing herself in bed around two last night, or this morning, whatever. It didn't matter. Her idea of a sleep schedule was so fucked up only she could function with it.

"No problem," Stabler said gruffly. "They're startin' about eleven. You got time. And don't tell Munch I called you, he'll try to beat me up."

"You're real worried, El, I can sense it," she snorted sarcastically.

"Hey, he's feisty," remarked Stabler. Jenny smirked and shook her head.

"Ten four," she barked into the phone, hanging it up before he could say another word.

She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, pulling her knees up to her chin and resting her cheek upon them for a moment. She ran her hand through the tangled knots in her hair and sat still. As soon as she felt herself begin to think about her nightmares, she got up, stalked into the bathroom, and readied a scalding hot shower, the perfect way to start a day.

* * *

**Friday December 10th 1993. Chambers of Judge Petrovksy, District of Columbia Courthouse. 7:30 a.m. **

Judge Petrovsky looked at the attorneys before her over the rim of her fashionable glasses, her eyes narrowing as she looked away from the thick petition in front of her.

"Explain yourself, Ms. Spitzer," she said sharply.

"Your honor, I don't see what you find arguable about Mr. Grey's psych defense. The sloppy nature of his crime indicates a lack of planning in his attack, and I have seen myself his inability to control his actions when confronted with something he finds sexually attractive—"

Petrovsky cut off the determined defense attorney.

"That's all very well, Ms. Spitzer, but as women we all know that many a normal man can't control himself when he sees something sexually attractive. Unfortunately _your_ man found that in an eight-year-old, and considering the other crimes to his name, I am disinclined to allow this defense unless you provide be with a viable reason to," she snapped.

"There is no viable reason," Alex Cabot broke in firmly. "For lack of a better word, this is a crock, a cooked up plan to make a slam-dunk case more difficult to force my hand in a deal and it's unacceptable!"

"I'm disposed to agree with you, Ms. Cabot, but we'll give Ms. Spitzer the courtesy of letting her finish."

"My client believes the girl he attacked wanted to be with him. He feels her smiling at him initiated a relationship, which clearly speaks to a severe psychological deficiency—even in his expunged juvenile file, it was mentioned he was not mentally aware—"

"Oh, Your Honor, _please_. Logan Grey raped and sodomized his ten-year-old sister when he was sixteen, then scared her so badly with threats that she took back her testimony and he pled to physical assault for bruises on her neck and forearms! The family court lawyer claimed he was mentally confused because of violent video games, though such a thing was shrugged at by a psychiatric evaluation!"

"So as you can see," Spitzer broke in sharply, glaring at the blonde opposite her, "Mr. Grey has had a history of violence stemming from too much exposure to video games of a violent and sexual nature, leading to a deficiency in his brain that causes him to lose control of his impulses and act! Have I not made this viable yet, Judge?"

Judge Petrovsky looked between the two highly intelligent and determined women, weighing her options thoughtfully.

"Ms. Spitzer," she said carefully, her eyes cold. "Please know that I feel your defense is thin and contrived, and I see a very desperate attempt at clawing your way into a losing battle however," she paused, and turned her eyes on Alex. "However," she repeated, "Mr. Grey has his rights, and the court must recognize them. Pending an evaluation by a court-approved psychologist, I will allow Ms. Spitzer's defense unless the evaluation proves to the contrary."

"Thank you, Your Honor," Spitzer said pointedly, glaring at Alex. "My next request is that the voice identifications made by Kelly Gibbs and Maddie Tyler be thrown out, as such a thing is hardly reliable and the age of the girls makes it even less so."

"Do you have any reason to believe the girls were influenced or helped on the part of the police?" Petrovsky asked.

"Absolutely not, both of us witnessed the entire thing," Alex stepped in sharply. The look on Spitzer's face confirmed the statement.

"I will not grant that request, Ms. Spitzer," Petrovsky said.

"Your hon—"

She held up her hand.

"Dislike it as you may, that is evidence you will have to try your hand at discrediting in court. To me it seems perfectly reliable. Next?"

Alex stepped forward.

"I'm requesting the testimony of Whitney Grey, Logan Grey's younger sister, be entered into the case as a character statement and establishment of pattern only," she said firmly.

"I object to this strongly," Spitzer started in immediately. "Whitney Grey recanted her statement that my client ever touched her, she is unreliable, and on top of that, the statute on her alleged rape was up almost five years ago. Her case is irrelevant and anything she says will unfairly influence the jury."

Petrovsky read over what Alex had in the file on Whitney Grey, frowning. She pulled her glasses off and looked at the blonde carefully.

"I believe I agree with Ms. Spitzer," she warned.

"Yes, the statute is expired," Alex began steadily, "but Whitney Grey is desperate to right the wrong she created years ago when she allowed her brother to go unpunished and thus hurt so many other little girls. As the other victims were killed by Mr. Grey, Whitney Grey would serve as a character witness only, and it would be left up to the jury to determine whether or not she was reliable which," Alex gave Spitzer a cold smile, "I'm sure Ms. Spitzer would do a fabulous job of discouraging."

Petrovsky leaned back, looking at the file again.

"That may be so," she said briskly. "But I still side with Ms. Spitzer in this. The testimony is condemning and persuasive and a jury cannot be trusted to take it objectively as character only, so I'm throwing it out. Whitney Grey will have to find another way to assuage her lingering guilt."

Alex grimaced, but nodded curtly, accepting the verdict. The other things had gone partially her way.

"Is that all, counselors?"

"I have one more request, Your Honor," Alex said politely. "I'd like Dr. George Huang to be the designated psychiatrist to examine Logan Grey."

"Not a chance, Cabot," Spitzer rounded on her. "That's an unfair bias and you know it. Huang is in the palm of SVU's hand."

"Huang is employed by the FBI and has always given a balanced and unbiased diagnosis, even in the face of shattering an SVU case. Check his files," Alex replied coldly, keeping her cool.

"Ms. Spitzer, my chambers are not the place for accusations and fighting words," Petrovsky reprimanded, standing up. "I'll grant your request, Ms. Cabot, and I want the evaluation on my desk by Sunday night. I presume we're done?"

Alex picked up her briefcase with a nod; Spitzer followed suit, a bitter scowl on her face.

* * *

**Friday December 10th 1993. Washington DC 14th Precinct; SVU. 10: 56 a.m.**

Jenny breezed into the SVU squad room, her eyes falling immediately on the blonde talking with Captain Cragen by her desk. She turned sideways and held up her coffee cup to avoid spilling it on a cop who rushed past her, and nodded to Fin as she passed his desk.

"Hey, you look good today, Shepard," he said.

"I'll take that as a compliment," she said with a small smile.

"She had a good morning," Stabler called suggestively from his desk.

"Damn sight better than yours, if your wife's stories are true," Jenny fired back, earning an appreciative laugh from Olivia. Stabler made a face at her and chucked a balled up piece of paper into a waste bin.

Jenny set her coffee cup down on her desk, looking expectantly from Cragen to Alex as they finished up their conversation.

"How did everything go?" Jenny asked earnestly.

"Favorably, for the most part. Petrovsky was skeptical of the psyche defense, but she's allowing unless Huang finds sufficient evidence to disprove. She denied Spitzer's request to throw out the voice ID," Alex paused.

"But?" prompted Jenny, sensing the word in their somewhere.

"But," Alex agreed, continuing, "Petrovsky threw out Whitney Grey's testimony. The juvenile case file is off-limits."

"Damn," swore Jenny, bending over her desk and pulling open the drawer for a pen. She leaned her hip against the beaten up metal and inserted the tip of the ink pen in her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "Eh, I guess we can't win every battle," she muttered.

"What's it matter, if we win the war?" Cragen asked gruffly, straightening up.

"Way to stay optimistic, Chief," Olivia complimented from behind him. He snorted.

"If we've still got the little Warrior Princess' testimony, we're golden," Munch said sarcastically, but Jenny smiled fondly. She looked at Alex with interest, pulling the pen from her mouth.

"Defense didn't make noise about a competency hearing for Kelly? I've had cases where they squirm and squeal over twelve-year-olds."

"Spitzer didn't even mention it," Alex said, tilting her head a little. "That may or may not be to our favor. The way I see it, she's not afraid of Kelly; she thinks it'll be easy to destroy her on the stand, so she doesn't want to make her look weak with a hearing," Alex explained.

"You think that girl can hold up against being drilled?" Cragen asked sharply, looking at Jenny.

Jenny nodded, confirming without a second thought.

"I don't have a doubt in my mind, Captain—and even so, Alex and I will talk her through it again and warn her the day before the trial starts, sound good?"

"Just make sure we don't muck this up," Cragen said, starting off towards his office. "Benson, Stabler, need you to investigate a sexual assault accusation up at the Capitol," he shouted in an offhand command.

"Again?" groaned Stabler, jumping up.

"Ack, don't these Senators have things to do other than play grab-ass with their secretaries?"

"Not if they're married Republicans!" barked Munch heatedly.

"Statistically, Democratic males are more likely to cheat on their wives," Jenny said primly to Munch. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

He glared at her.

"That may be so, but old white republicans are more likely to cheat in the homosexual direction," he retorted.

Jenny smirked.

"Touché," she said, lifting her coffee cup.

"You know anything about _that_?" Fin asked with a smirk, snatching a file off of Munch's desk as he passed.

"I'll have you know, I satisfied all my wives," Munch announced, offended.

"Yeah? Why'd they leave your sorry ass?" Fin retorted good-naturedly.

"Boys, boys," murmured Jenny, clicking her tongue.

Alex snorted in amusement. She checked her watch and tucked her thick blonde hair behind her ears, nodding out of the squad room.

"Huang's about to start," she said, and Jenny swept her coffee cup off of her desk, hardly needing to be told twice.

* * *

**Friday December 10th 1993. 14th Precinvt SVU Interrogation Room. 11:12 a.m. **

Logan Grey sat silently opposite Dr. George Huang, his hands folded coolly on the metal interrogation table. His eyes were alert and unblinking, his mouth pressed together in an expression that was blank; hardly an expression at all. His hair was dirty and greasy, his orange prison jumpsuit, dirty and greasy as well.

Dr. Huang studied him, his glass on, his notes in front of him, letting him sit a moment before beginning. He had already greeted Grey, and introduced himself, but elicited no response from the accused.

Jenny watched from two-way mirror, her arms folded across her chest, Alex next to her with her manicured hand on her hip stiffly.

"Ready for the grand performance?" Alex hissed sardonically.

Jenny smirked, inclining her head a little. They waited for the curtain to rise on the show of Logan Grey's _mental deficiency_.

"Logan, what happened on the night of Friday, December third?" Huang began calmly, looking up from his notes and at Grey with interest.

"I was working."

"Yes," agreed Huang. "You were working. Do you recognize the date, or do I need to remind you of what happened?"

"I remember that date. How could I forget? It was the day I saw the little girl, and we fell in love."

He said it in such a calm, wholesome way. Jenny shivered, compressing her lips.

"This is going to make me sick," she muttered to Alex.

"You're not alone," Alex said, crossing her arms firmly. She narrowed her eyes at the glass and both women fell silent.

"What little girl was that?" Huang prompted.

"The brown-haired one. No, her hair was coppery. Like burnt strawberries. Very pretty. She was dressed like a princess, you see. Her friends called her 'Kelly' but none of them were as pretty as she. She was a sweet thing, very sweet. Pretty," he said earnestly.

Huang paused, making a note. He looked at Grey quietly. Jenny clenched her jaw. Through the glass, she stared into Grey's eyes. They were so still and calculated. As she had noted in the courtroom, he spoke the psychobabble, but the psychosis his attorney argued didn't reach his eyes.

He was as sane as she was.

"Logan, Kelly is a very young girl. She is eight-years-old. What makes you say the two of you fell in love?" Huang queried calmly.

"She smiled at me, of course. Her eyes shone very brightly. I smiled back at her. When she went out alone, I knew she wanted me to follow. It was a secret meeting," he explained.

"He's speaking as if he's her age," Alex remarked.

"It's an act," Jenny snapped.

"I'm not an idiot," Alex responded mildly, flicking her eyes at the redhead. "I can see that."

"So you followed Kelly Gibbs into the parking lot," Huang coaxed.

"Yes, to meet her. I wanted to be alone with her," he said. He smiled blandly. "She wanted it, too. She smiled at me. She was looking for her crown to put on, just for me. I tried to help her find it, but she fell," Grey said.

"No, Logan, you pushed Kelly, she hit her head. That is what she says," Huang said.

"That isn't true! She's just afraid people will find out she wanted it! She fell and I helped her up, and she was nervous, so I dragged her because she couldn't walk!"

"Logan, what happened next?"

"I made love to her."

"Logan," Huang said a little sharply, "Why did you not stop when you saw Kelly was crying? When she screamed? Why did you not stop when she was bleeding?" he asked, staring at the other man.

"It's always like that! It hurts them at first, but they get quiet, it gets better! I tried to shush her, I tried to kiss her, but she wouldn't stop screaming, so I covered her mouth," Grey glared at Huang. "You don't understand because you've never been in love like I have!"

"Logan, do you understand what the words 'stop' and 'no' mean?" asked Huang, ignoring the comment.

"Yes, I'm not stupid. I understand simple commands," Grey growled.

"Then tell me why you thought Kelly did not mean them when she said them," Huang pushed.

"It's DIFFERENT. We loved each other; it was a game, a little game. Like I said, it's always like that."

"So all of your other victims, they told you to stop as well? And you felt they didn't really mean it?"

"They weren't my victims, you bastard, they were my lovers," Grey hissed.

"God," choked Jenny, her stomach dropping. She moved closer to the glass, pressing her hand against it lightly and gritting her teeth. She narrowed her eyes. Huang sat back in his chair and looked at Grey for a moment.

"Logan, do you know the difference between right and wrong?" he asked seriously.

"Yes," answered Grey.

"Do you understand that a man your age have intercourse with a girl Kelly's age is not legal, it is wrong, and it is called rape?"

"I understand the law, but we were in love, I'm trying to tell you that. So it was okay. I've never been in trouble before, ask Whitney, even she said it was okay."

"Whitney, your little sister?"

"Yes, Whitney. Pretty Whitney," he answered.

"Logan, Whitney has told the police you raped her when she was very young. She says the same thing Kelly does. What makes you think these young girls love you, if they are telling people you are hurting them?"

Grey glared at Huang. He folded his arms. His eyes had not yet changed. It seemed he didn't have the ability to act like he should, to act like a real victim of psychosis. He had no breakage in sentences, no tics or twitches, nothing to indicate something was off. Just the words that Huang needed to hear.

"They want to keep our love a secret," he said finally. "I don't know why else they would say I hurt them, we were in love. The little Kelly, she was the prettiest yet, the feistiest. She bit me; she liked it rougher than the others. She was lovely, a little perfect angel…"

Jenny turned away, her eyes catching Alex's coldly. Alex's mouth pulled tight. It couldn't go on much longer.

"There's a special place in hell for men like him," whispered Jenny hoarsely.

She was right. It didn't go on much longer. The door opened and Huang slipped in, closing it tightly and looking at them.

"Prognosis, doctor?" Alex asked wryly, smiling a little.

"He shows no immediate signs of psychotic tendencies or schizophrenia. He knows who he is, where he is, what he did—what he seems not to get is that his idea of love is...off," Huang began.

"Clearly," Jenny snorted vehemently. "You aren't buying this act, George?" she asked skeptically.

He hesitated.

"To tell the truth, no, from a professional stand point I'd be fairly confident declaring that he'd read up on what he needs to say to be declared 'insane' by legal standards," Huang said, looking at Jenny. "He certainly looks sane enough, but the lack of emotion in his eyes might indicate a sociopathic nature."

"What, like Bundy or Gacy?" Alex asked, furrowing her brows.

"Perhaps," Huang said.

"No," Jenny shook her head. "He has no distinctive MO, no method. He's a sexual predator and that's _that_. Sociopaths…they don't feel love, so if he's going for that psychotic defense, its bullshit, it doesn't fit the tendencies of a sociopath," she set her jaw and looked through the glass at Grey. "He's an evil bastard, he isn't crazy, but he's going to take this angle to matter what we say," she muttered.

"Jenny has a point," Huang agreed.

"Then what's the verdict? What is your official report going to say?" Alex queried.

"He isn't insane by medical definitions. He's lucid, he communicates well—almost gentlemanly—and he understands right and wrong, he said that himself. In my report, I'll mention everything I've told you and in court I'll say the same, but ultimately it's the jury that's going to try his 'insanity' case," Huang said.

"And a jury…do you think a jury will find him feasible?" Jenny asked.

"Juries are difficult to predict," Alex murmured.

"Yes, but people often are not. You'll have a very cute, very traumatized little girl on the witness stand and it's hard for even an insane person to avoid a conviction with that," Huang said evenly.

Alex looked at Jenny.

Jenny stared through the glass at Logan Grey. He looked around calmly. He was too blasé about this, too sure he wouldn't see a lick of jail time. She swore she would make sure he did. She looked back at Alex coldly and at Huang.

"He's not insane," she said sharply. "He's raped and killed six children. He ruined the lives of two others. Try him, _convict_ him, give him to Virginia, and let them put the goddamn death penalty on the table."

* * *

**Friday December 10th 1993. Thomas Paine Elementary. 2:25 p.m. **

Leroy Jethro Gibbs slammed his car door in the parking lot of Kelly's elementary school, turning up the collar of his coat against the cold as he walked up to the front doors. The office had called him at NCIS half an hour ago asking him to pick Kelly up. It was only her second day back, and they claimed she was in trouble for _fighting_.

He wrenched open the door, irritated with the school and worried about his daughter. Those that needed to knew what had happened to Kelly, and he had expected them to handle it a little bit better than sending her home on day two. He doubted it made her feel very normal.

A secretary on the office looked up as he entered and tilted her head.

"Mr. Gibbs?"

"Kelly?" was all he responded in a very short voice.

She stood up, beckoned to him, and nodded in the direction of a different room. He followed. Kelly was sitting quietly in a chair in the nurse's office, her school bag and lunch box with her. On the opposite side of the room was a scrawny, mean looking freckled kid with a bloody nose.

He narrowed his eyes sharply at the other kid.

It was nearly time for school to be out anyway, just after recess.

"Kelly," he said gently, and she looked up. She picked up her things and stood, sniffing her nose quietly. She walked forward and hugged him, hiding her face in his coat.

"Is she sick?" he asked a little angrily, concerned that he hadn't been informed about very much at all.

"No sir, she's okay. We think the kids just had a little misunderstanding, and Ms. Coomer thought it would be better if she went home after her little scuffle with TJ," explained the secretary.

"She in trouble?" Jethro asked gruffly.

"Nah, she hasn't been written up," the woman answered. Jethro glared at her. He pushed Kelly's hair back and she looked up at him.

"Daddy, I want to go home."

"We're going," he said, more to the woman than Kelly. She nodded, and handed him a clipboard with which he signed Kelly out without another word. She pulled her school bag over her shoulder and walked a little ahead of him out to the car.

"Is Elizabeth with you?" she asked.

"Nah, she's with Gramma Jo today," he answered, referring to Shannon's mother. He kept Lizzy at the NCIS daycare three days a week and Joanne Fielding kept her the other two days. He grit his teeth through it, but he allowed it if just to cool the insufferable woman's jets.

Kelly stopped outside the car.

"Can I sit up front, please?" she asked, shivering. He leaned on the car, squinting in the wintery sun, and then nodded his head tersely, unlocking the car. She got in, and as she was buckling her seatbelt, muttered:

"I'm sorry they made you come get me."

"Kelly, it's okay. It isn't your fault," he answered calmly.

He turned on the car, waiting to see if she would volunteer the story or if he would have to ask. He wanted to know what had happened that the school considered fighting, particularly since he knew Kelly very well. She wasn't violent, and she'd been taught by both him and Shannon to only hurt another person if they were hurting her.

After a few minutes, he glanced over at her. She had her head against the window, staring at the dashboard.

"What happened, Kel?"

She pulled at a string on her sweater.

"I punched TJ," she mumbled softly.

Jethro knew he probably shouldn't, but he smirked. Just a little.

"What did TJ do?" he asked tersely, seriously considering beating the shit out of TJ. As if Kelly hadn't been hurt enough.

"He…he just made me feel uncomfortable."

"What did he _do_, Kelly?"

"He…" she shrugged, tilting her head back against the window. "Nothing," she said quietly.

Jethro sighed and glanced over at her, watching her rub her hand on her clothing gently as she looked at the dashboard and then down at her knees, and finally out the window. He waited a moment.

"Did he say something to you—"

"I don't want to talk about it!" Kelly snapped at him. She pulled away from the window, leaned forward, and turned on the radio, setting it to one of her favorite stations. She scooted as far away from him towards the window as she could and curled up.

He didn't say another word to her on the way home, unwilling to upset her. She kept sniffling her nose like she was trying not to cry and he wanted to tell her it was okay, but he thought she might prefer it if he pretended he didn't notice.

She got out of the car as soon as he turned it off, her head down, taking her things with her. Jethro followed her into the house, watching her carefully. She slipped off her shoes in the hall and went towards her room.

"Kelly," he called mildly. "I want to talk to you."

"I don't _want_ to, Daddy," she said, looking at him helplessly. He gave her a sterner look, determined to try and understand. She fidgeted with her school bag.

"You need to tell me what happened, honey," he said firmly.

"No I _don't_!" she said, her voice rising in a shaky whine. "Leave me alone, Daddy, _please_!" her face crumpled and she turned her back on him and ran down the hallway.

Jethro watched her run off and listened to her slam her door. He thrust his keys into his pockets and shrugged his coat off, hanging it up. He scrubbed his hand over his face and walked down the hall slowly, stopping at her door. He pressed his ear against it, and heard her crying.

He turned around, pressed his back against the wall, and slid down until he was sitting with his knees up by his chin. He tilted his head back, trying to think of what Shannon would do if she were here. He was almost glad she wasn't alive to see Kelly suffer like this. It would have broken her heart.

"I'm sorry, Shannon," he muttered, clenching his jaw. He wasn't doing a very good job of keeping their girls safe and happy.

He ran his hand through his hair and gripped tightly. He had to get up. He had to call his mother-in-law and tell her she'd have to drive Lizzy home.

* * *

**Friday December 10th 1993. Washington DC 14th Precinct; SVU. 4:10 p.m. **

"Is there a particular reason you look hot today?" Olivia asked Jenny.

"Munch, Liv is sexually harassing me," Jenny deadpanned, chucking a balled up piece of paper at her partner. Munch swatted it away and rolled his eyes.

"You look like you got laid last night," she continued.

"She's doing it again, Munch," Jenny chucked another piece of paper at her old Semitic partner and he glared at her, finally distracted from his interesting newspaper.

"Why don't you just tell her if you got laid?" Fin asked, shrugging. "Then she'll shut up."

"Yeah, she's living vicariously," snorted Stabler, earning a glare from his partner.

Jenny lifted her brows, smirked, and put her finger to her lips secretively. Olivia raised her eyebrows.

Jenny wasn't quite sure what the deal was. So she left her house in such a rush she hadn't put her hair up, and they thought she looked good. She rarely left her hair out of some kind of up do. Perhaps it was that her skin had a healthier glow to it because of her morning…stress relief.

"You haven't fallen back into your old habits, Jen?" Munch asked, glancing up, putting an end to the conversation immediately. Jenny rolled her eyes, smirking good-naturedly. The others always backed off when he referenced her past.

She wiggled her foot on her desk, tapping her nail against her lip as she looked at Munch thoughtfully. She chewed on her lip, tilting her head back and rolling her neck. Her phone rang, and she looked at it for a minute before reaching over, slinging it off the receiver, and holding it to her ear.

"DC SVU, Detective Shepard," she said sharply, smirking at Munch when he made a face at her for her sudden use of the no-nonsense cop voice he made fun of her for.

"Jenny?"

Jenny stilled and turned her head away from the general din of the squad room, straining her ears.

"Kelly?" she asked gently, sure she recognized the polite little voice.

"Yes," Kelly answered. "You said I could call, um, if I…" she hesitated slightly.

"I did, is everything all right, Kelly? Are you okay?" she asked, swinging her feet off of her desk and leaning forward on it. She pulled her nail away from her mouth.

"Yes," she said again, slowly. "I need someone to talk to," she murmured quietly. "Can you come over, I mean, if you're not busy?"

"I can be there in fifteen minutes, hon," Jenny said swiftly.

"Really?" Kelly asked, sounding surprised.

"Yeah, I'm a cop, I have a license to speed," she said, grinning. "Hang tight, okay?"

"Thank you, Jenny," Kelly said sincerely.

"No problem," she said warmly, hanging up her phone. She jumped out of her chair, swept her coat off the back of it, and snatched her purse from the drawer, not bothering to clean up her work station.

"Cover me," was all she said to Munch's querying look, high-tailing it out of the squad room.

She could make it to Kelly's house from the precinct in ten minutes, technically, but she wanted to give herself time to arm with smoothies.

* * *

**Friday December 10th 1993. Home of Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Kelly Gibbs, and Elizabeth Gibbs. 4:37 p.m.**

It was a after four o'clock when Jenny knocked on Leroy Jethro Gibbs' door, and she could tell, immediately, from the look on his face when he opened it that he had no idea she was coming over.

"Jenny," he greeted guardedly, his eyes narrowing at the Styrofoam cups in her hands.

"Afternoon," she greeted breezily. "You had no idea Kelly called me," she remarked lightly, sidestepping him into the house.

"Kelly called?" he asked, shutting the door behind her. She turned around and he looked concerned and confused, like he didn't know how she'd gotten that past him. "She doesn't have a phone in her room," he muttered.

"Is she in her room?" Jenny asked.

He looked at her for a moment, and then seemed to focus.

"She locked herself in there when I brought her home from school. I don't know how she got a hold of a phone without me noticing," he growled.

"Did something happen at school?" Jenny probed gently.

Again, he looked at her like he didn't want to answer. He did, even if it seemed reluctant.

"Her principal called me to pick her up for fighting," he said shortly. "I tried to talk to her but," he faltered, and shook his head. "She told me to leave her alone."

Jenny gave him a sympathetic smile. She held up the smoothies.

"Well," she said a little brightly, "I'm here to help. Where--?" she glanced around. Jethro pointed down the hall over her shoulder.

"First door on the left," he muttered.

"Cool," Jenny said. "No eavesdropping," she said wryly, turning. "I'll fill you in later," she added over her shoulder.

She made her way down the dim hallway and found the door, pausing outside. She balanced both smoothies in one hand again and tapped gently on Kelly's door.

"It's Jen, Kelly, not your dad," she offered soothingly.

There was a silence, and then footsteps, and Kelly unlocked the door and opened it, peeking around it before she widened it to let Jenny in. Jenny smiled, kicking the door shut behind her. She looked around, and strolled over to an armchair in the corner, turning and sinking down on the floor comfortably.

She held up the smoothies experimentally.

"Raspberry-pineapple or banana-kiwi?" she asked.

Kelly smiled. She wrinkled her nose.

"Raspberry-pineapple," she decided.

"Yeah, I knew there was a reason I liked you," Jenny said seriously, presenting it gallantly. Kelly took it, thanking her with a polite smile. Jenny shrugged, waving her hand as if it were nothing, and took a sip of her own smoothie while Kelly sat down against her bed, crossing her legs neatly.

"Dad says you got to leave school early," prompted Jenny, not keen on wasting anytime with small talk. In her experience, small talk just made the big talk harder.

"It wasn't a privilege," Kelly said with a shrug, cradling her cup in both hands. "Ms. Coomer made me. I wouldn't tell her why I hit TJ, and she said she couldn't give me special treatment," the young girl explained, shrugging a little.

Jenny frowned slightly, intent on having a talk with Ms. Coomer about the difference between special treatment and having a heart.

Instead of 'why did you hit TJ?', Jenny asked:

"Did TJ deserve to be hit?" It would make Kelly feel less like she was in the wrong.

Kelly tapped her fingers against her cup and frowned a little.

"I don't know. I don't think he meant to be mean," she said quietly.

"What happened, Kelly?" Jenny asked gently.

"We were at recess, and I was on the swings with Maddie even though we usually do monkey bars, but monkey bars hurt me now. TJ was being silly, and it was okay, but then he made me feel uncomfortable and Maddie told him to be quiet, but he didn't," she paused, biting down on her straw for a moment. "My mom always told me if someone touched me inappropriately or made me feel uncomfortable, I should hurt them or protect myself, and TJ made me feel like he had touched me so I punched him," she muttered.

Jenny almost smiled gleefully. Punched him? Really? That was kind of awesome.

"I didn't mean to make him bleed," she whispered uncertainly.

"TJ didn't touch you, did he?" Jenny asked.

"No," she shook her head. "He was saying things about the rape," she said quietly, glancing up at Jenny. Jenny nodded, showing she understood. She held Kelly's gaze confidently.

"Do the kids at school know what happened?" she ventured.

"They're not supposed to, Daddy said they wouldn't," she answered. "Maddie told, but she wasn't being mean. She was trying to help them be nice. Maddie is never mean to anyone," Kelly defended her friend loyally.

Jenny smiled.

"Yeah, I'm sure Maddie wasn't trying to start bad rumors," she agreed.

Kelly nodded, her shoulders slumping. She sipped her smoothie quietly, resting her elbows on her knees. Jenny chewed on her straw, uncertain if Kelly would continue when she was ready or if she should start up again.

"You want to talk about what TJ was saying?" she asked.

Kelly pulled her straw from her mouth, looking down at her lap. She bit her lip and frowned, her eyes cast away from Jenny's.

"He asked me what it was like to have sex," she admitted quietly.

Jenny leaned her head back a little, wincing inwardly. It was such a hard age. The other kids really didn't understand how to treat Kelly; they didn't understand what was hurtful or how she was feeling.

"Ah," Jenny said. "Did you tell him you don't know?" she asked nonchalantly, taking a sip of her own smoothie.

Kelly looked up at her uncertainly, rubbing her knee nervously.

"I didn't know what to say," she said shakily. "I couldn't tell him what it…was like?" she sounded so afraid she was going to say something wrong.

"Of course you couldn't. You've never had sex," Jenny said matter-of-factly.

Kelly glanced away and back at Jenny, and for a split second, her skeptic, sharp look made her look exactly like her father.

"Yes I have," she said uncertainly.

Jenny shook her head, looking at Kelly sincerely.

"No, Kelly, you have not. Rape is _not_ sex," she said, softening her voice. "Rape is a violent, non-consensual act that hurts very much, physically as much as emotionally. Sex is a _choice_, and it is very much about love and respect," she explained gently.

Kelly blinked, her eyes trained intently on Jenny.

"They're very different, Kelly, trust me," Jenny said earnestly. Kelly bit her lip, tapping her straw against her closed lips gently. She looked at Jenny, her cheeks flushing a little.

"Does sex hurt?"

Jenny tilted her head and raised her shoulder.

"It can, sometimes," she offered honestly. "Kelly, when you're having sex, you _want_ to be intimate with whoever you're with, it's a whole different feeling."

Kelly nodded slowly.

"Have you had sex, Jenny?"

Jenny hesitated briefly.

"Yes," she answered quietly, smiling slightly.

Kelly scraped her nail against her cup and looked down.

"I trust you," she said quietly. Her lips trembled and she reached up to push her thick wavy hair back, swiping at her eye quickly. "TJ said I was the first girl in our grade to lose her virginity," she whispered.

Jenny narrowed her eyes. It sounded like TJ's parents needed to have a little talk with him about running his mouth. She set down her cup and shifted to her knees, crawling towards Kelly. She perched on her knees in front of her. Kelly looked up.

"You don't lose your virginity when someone rapes you," she said quietly, catching Kelly's gorgeous blue eyes. "It isn't something you lose, you know? It's yours, and you _give_ it to someone you love and someone who loves you. Understand? The Rat King broke some medical stuff down there, but he didn't _take_ your virginity," she reached out and touched Kelly's bruised cheek gently. "That's part of you. You don't let him have that power over you, Kelly, promise me. He can't take what you fight to keep."

Kelly blinked at her, blinking her eyes rapidly. She managed to hold back most of her tears, but a few still sparkled on her face and shone in her eyes. She nodded, chewing on her lip anxiously.

"It feels like he took everything," she murmured insightfully. "It feels dirty and it hurts and it's still scary. I hate being scared," she said again, her voice small.

Jenny removed her hand from Kelly's face and touched the orchid pendant at her throat, drawing Kelly's attention to it.

"I know," she said softly, relaxing in front of Kelly. "You remember you asked me if someone hurt me, Kelly?" Kelly nodded. Jenny nodded back and went on. "I was a little older than you, and it was a long time ago, but he still scares me, even though he can never hurt me again. I always called him my Orchid Thief," she said softly.

"Orchid Thief?" Kelly repeated.

Jenny nodded.

"I had an orchid charm bracelet my Dad gave me before he and my mom died, and when the Orchid Thief hurt me, he broke it to little pieces. It felt like he broke everything inside of me, and orchids didn't look beautiful to me anymore," she said, her voice getting softer. "He hurt me for a long time and I was too scared to tell anyone."

Kelly, her eyes widening slightly, reached forward and took Jenny's hand gently. Jenny smiled slowly, thinking the gesture of comfort sweet.

"What happened to him?" Kelly asked.

"He died," Jenny answered a little dully. "The police protected me from him."

"He's dead, and you're still scared?" Kelly asked hesitantly.

"Sometimes, when I'm alone, or I dream about him. I told you it was okay to be scared because you had people to be brave for you, remember? I didn't have anyone to be brave for me and I felt like no one cared," she said, turning and sitting next to Kelly comfortably. "You're very lucky to have Elizabeth and your Dad, you know. And Dad…I know it's hard to talk to him and it feels wrong, but it will start to feel better."

Kelly shifted and looked over, her eyes falling from Jenny's eyes to her necklace. She reached out and touched it delicately, admiring it.

"When did you start liking orchids again?"

"Dr. Huang, you remember him," Kelly nodded. "He helped me a lot, and my partner Detective Munch helped me a lot. Munch bought me this when I became his partner because he said I should never let the Orchid Thief take away what I thought was beautiful," she said hoarsely.

"Like I shouldn't let the Rat King," Kelly said quietly.

Jenny smiled.

"Exactly," she agreed, leaning her forehead into Kelly's. Kelly smiled slowly. She lifted her smoothie to her lips and drank some more of it, looking up at Jenny thoughtfully as she swallowed.

"I want to apologize to Daddy," she said. "I yelled at him, and he just tried to help," she said.

Jenny smiled at her warmly, nodding encouragingly.

"He'll like that," she said. "But Kelly, you're going to feel angry, and it's okay. And if you and your dad fight—"

"If he yells at me, he's scared because I did something dangerous. That's the only time he yells," she interrupted. Jenny nodded, pursing her lips. Kelly stood up gracefully and looked towards the door.

"I want to show you something after I talk to Daddy," she said a little shyly.

Jenny looked up at her and smiled.

"I'm intrigued," she said, lifting her brows. Kelly beamed and went towards the door. She paused and glanced at Jenny. Jenny tilted her head back against the bed. "Can you give me a minute, Kelly? You know how it is," she said with a wink, unsure if she cloaked the tremble in her voice or not.

Kelly nodded solemnly. She opened her door and slipped out.

Jenny closed her eyes briefly, taking a deep breath. She knew she wasn't going to cry, but her hands were shaking and she wanted to cool off a little. It wasn't often she talked about what had happened when she was in foster care. She brushed her fingers against the orchid pendent, opening her eyes to look at the ceiling, and then got up, careful to take her smoothie with her.

She went into the main part of the house hesitantly, unwilling to interrupted Kelly and Jethro. She caught sight of Kelly hugging him tightly and speaking softly as she rounded the corner and hung back. The house smelled like dinner being cooked.

Jethro caught sight of her and nodded, patting Kelly's shoulders encouragingly. Kelly turned around and wriggled away, dropping her smoothie off on the table as she scampered over to Jenny.

"I want you to stay for dinner, Jenny," she said. "And I get to show you the boat!"

Jenny blinked, unsure she'd heard correctly.

"Boat?" she asked, trying to process that and the dinner invite in one. Kelly nodded, smirking, and gestured towards basement stairs. Jenny glanced at Jethro. He shrugged gruffly and she followed Kelly.

She saw suddenly thankful for her flat-soled leather boots when she saw the death trap posing as stairs to the basement.

There was, indeed, a boat in Kelly Gibbs' basement. It was in the making, and it looked damn good, even if it was littered with Barbie clothes and plastic beauty shop toys and a stack of books. Jenny smiled to see the basement, raising her eyebrows a little at the woodshop project.

"Daddy loves it more than Lizzy and me," Kelly announced, putting her hands on her hips.

Jenny laughed.

"Boys and their toys, huh?" she joked.

"Mom used to say that, sort of. She called it Daddy's other wife," Kelly said, laughing a little. Jenny gave her an amused look and put her hand on one of the freshly sanded wooden ribs, pursing her lips. It was impressive.

"This is beautiful," Jenny murmured.

Kelly smiled. She leaned on the boat and pulled the closest book towards her, turning it over in her hands gently as she watched Jenny. Jenny cocked her head and arched her neck to peek at it.

"Is that your latest book?" she asked.

"No, I've already read it. I'm still reading _The Hobbit_," she said. "I'm usually faster, but I have a lot of make-up work and the math is hard. It's advanced and Daddy can't help, he says it's chicken scratch," she said.

Jenny smiled. It was odd to hear Kelly talk so confidently, but she loved it. She loved how smart this kid was, she was almost afraid to ask about the math. She was saved the question, in a roundabout way.

"You might be able to help," she said. "Can you simplify a square root? I understand what a square root is, but when it's uneven, I'm confused," she said.

Jenny's brows shot up.

"Honey, that's middle-level math," she remarked. "Aren't you bored with third grade?" she asked with a laugh. Kelly just smiled. She started to say something, but turned around, falling silent.

"Lizzy's home," she said, pushing off the boat with her book and walking to the stairs. "She likes to say your name, you know," she said, as Jenny slowly followed her, looking around the basement at Jethro's things.

His were kept on the shelves and workbench, tools, things that looked like marine corp items, and on the shelf, different proofs of good bourbon. Jenny smiled and caught up with Kelly on the stairs, listening as she hard Jethro greeting someone at the door.

"Daddy!" Elizabeth squealed, bringing another smile to Jenny's face as she followed Kelly.

"Jethro, this child is a walking safety hazard, has that come to your attention recently? She hurts herself constantly—"

"Joanne, she's three," Jethro interrupted tersely.

"That may be, but I'm not sure Shannon would appreciate you letting her run wild and clumsy like that—"

"Shannon's dead, Joanne—"

"For God's sake, Jethro, have some taste in front of the girl—"

"Hi, Gramma Jo," Kelly said loudly, and Jenny hung back, unprepared to have walked straight into a family spat. She had been aware, just from his passing comment, that Jethro didn't like his mother-in-law, but she felt uncomfortable witnessing it.

"Kelly Marie darling, how are you?" the woman gushed warmly, grabbing Kelly up and hugging her. Elizabeth giggled; Kelly mumbled something and kissed her grandmother's cheek.

"Kelly, darlin', hello," Elizabeth said mockingly, sitting up in Jethro's arms. She spotted Jenny and grinned. Jenny waved warmly. Jethro's mother-in-law, just turning her attention from Kelly to Jethro, her eyes sharp, looked at Jenny and stiffened.

"Hello," she said warily, her eyes sharpening more, if possible. She was certainly a formidable looking woman. Jenny nodded, straightening and coming forward a little. "Who might you be?" the woman's tone was clipped and cool.

"Detective Jennifer Shepard, ma'am," she said, holding out her hand.

The woman did not take her hand. She looked her up and down, met her eyes, and snorted, turning her beady eyes on Jethro.

"Well, Shannon did always say you liked redheads, Jethro," she said shortly.

Jethro's jaw hardened immediately.

"Liz, go help Kelly set the table," he said tightly, trying to release her.

"Uh-oh," Lizzy murmured, scampering up to Kelly. She snuggled up to Kelly's side and looked at Jenny. "Daddy's _pissed_."

Jethro opened the door stiffly, holding it.

"You know how I feel about doing this in front of the girls, Joanne," Jenny heard him growl tightly. The woman seemed torn. She gave Jenny a stern, judgmental look, and went outside with Jethro, leaving Jenny alone with the girls.

Kelly frowned, her shoulders slumping.

"Come on, Lizzy," she said gently, coaxing her towards the kitchen.

Jenny looked at the door, sparing a moment of pity for Jethro that he had to deal with such criticism in the middle of all of this, before she wandered after his daughters for lack of anything else to do.

"Get the stool, Lizzy," Kelly said in a mothering voice.

"Jenny can reach, Jenny's big," Elizabeth answered, running over to Jenny and tugging on her arm. She beamed and Jenny nodded. Elizabeth turned and pointed with a small hand towards a cabinet.

"Plates and cups and forks and spoons!"

"She's a guest, Lizzy," reprimanded Kelly, opening a drawer. "Just get the stool, sis, okay?"

"No, Kelly, don't worry," Jenny said airily, swinging Elizabeth up on her hip instinctually and letting the three-year-old point her to the right cabinet. "I don't mind gettin' my hands dirty," she said cheekily.

Elizabeth giggled and Jenny hitched her up a little, allowing the small redhead to start handing down the plates she knew to use. Jenny placed them gently on the counter, smiling encouragingly at Elizabeth, until they had enough to go around.

"Put me down," Elizabeth requested nicely, and Jenny obliged. She reached up and gestured at the plates. "I can carry them!" Jenny smirked and handed them off carefully, watching Elizabeth's progress towards the table.

She turned and watched Kelly picking utensils out of the dishwasher.

"_Does_ Elizabeth get hurt a lot?" she asked hesitantly.

Kelly looked up and rolled her eyes.

"She plays like boys do, so she gets scuffs and bruises, but Daddy doesn't neglect her. He and Gramma Jo don't like each other," she said quietly, shutting the dishwasher.

"I'm sure it's a little more complex than that," Jenny said sincerely.

Kelly shrugged and shook her head.

"No, Gramma Jo doesn't like Daddy, it isn't complicated," she paused and frowned. "She tried to take us away after Mommy died," she mumbled, shaking her head. Jenny compressed her lips, glancing toward the shut front door.

"What do you mean, Kelly?" she asked gently.

"Custody," Kelly muttered unhappily. "She tried to take custody."

Elizabeth dashed back into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around Jenny's knees, looking up and smiling broadly.

"All set," she announced.

Jenny smiled, crouching down and grabbing Elizabeth on her sides. She giggled, biting her tongue between her teeth, and tried to wriggle away, but Jenny tickled her more insistently and she curled up instead, tumbling into Jenny and knocking her on her backside.

Kelly laughed.

"She's tough as nails," Kelly said, placing the silverware on the counter.

Jenny laughed.

She didn't notice the door slam as Jethro marched back in, evidently rid of his mother-in-law. He paused in the doorway, his hand over his mouth, watching Jenny with the girls. For a minute he forgot about the earful Joanne had just given him about having 'some strange girlfriend' around just to watch Lizzy play with Jenny.

It reminded him of what they were missing in light of Shannon's death. He pulled his hand away from his face and cleared his throat, getting Kelly's attention immediately. She didn't stop smiling. Jenny looked up, blowing hair out of her eyes and pausing.

"Elizabeth," he growled playfully.

"Jenny started it!" she shouted immediately, rolling onto her stomach in Jenny's lap and giggling madly. She covered her face and peeked at her father through her fingers.

"Tattletale," hissed Jenny, poking her gently in the shoulder. Elizabeth squealed. Jethro smiled and jerked his head back towards the other parts of the house.

"My girls. Hands. Wash. Now," he ordered, giving Jenny a pointed look over Lizzy's pigtails. Lizzy jumped up, scrambling up to Kelly and following, sticking her tongue out at Jenny playfully.

Jenny started to get up, and Jethro gave her a hand. She gave him an amused look, brushing off her hands on her black jeans.

"I totally did start it," she offered, breaking the ice.

"Not if she tackled your knees first," he responded knowingly, moving past her to get to the oven. He opened it, pulled out dinner, checked it, and turned around. "Kelly's okay?"

Jenny nodded, threading her hands through her hair and pushing it back.

"The boy she hit, he asked her what it was like to have sex," Jenny said. Jethro's eyes narrowed darkly. "We just talked about the difference between rape and sex," Jenny offered, lowering her voice. She smirked. "I kept it G-rated," she threw in.

Jethro grunted, sounding half-annoyed, looking mostly concerned. He wrinkled his forehead and turned around, glancing over his shoulder in the direction Kelly and Elizabeth had gone.

"Kelly asked why women wanted to have sex if it hurt so much," he said tightly, keeping his voice low. "How am I supposed to tell her that sex is—"

"—incredible?" Jenny supplied, arching an eyebrow as she finished for him. He looked at her warily and she grinned. She shrugged. "You can't, Jethro, don't try. She'll figure it out one day."

He shuddered.

"Ooh, yeah, sorry," Jenny laughed, wincing a little. "Guess you don't want to think about that? In the mean time, you might let her see a movie or a book with a benign sex scene in it," he gave her a skeptical look that was almost a very scary glare. "I'm talkin' _Dirty Dancing_ versus some cheap 70s porno, Jethro, or something subtle in a romance novel versus Harlequin," she clarified.

She lifted a shoulder, pursing her lips.

"Just to provide insight for her, about the emotional aspect," she said.

Jethro cocked his head at the sound of quick footsteps, shaking his head minutely at Jenny to indicate she should end the conversation. She closed her mouth and nodded. He turned off the stove, looking down. Jenny followed his eyes and saw Elizabeth peeking sneakily around the corner. Her eyes crinkled when she saw them looking.

"Kelly says Jenny staying," she whispered excitedly.

"'Jenny _is_ staying', Ellie," Kelly corrected loudly.

"Shut-up, KELLLLLLYYYY!" growled Elizabeth.

"No ma'am," Jethro snapped sternly, shaking his finger at Elizabeth. She hunkered down a little and mouthed an apology at him. "Apologize to Kel, not me," he ordered, jerking his thumb at Jenny, "or she'll go home because you're so rude."

Elizabeth gasped, her eyes widening, and took off, shouting an apology at Kelly. Jenny smiled fondly, then bit her lip and turned to Jethro, narrowing her eyes.

"Don't think you have to feed me," she said quietly. "I don't need to stay," she began, but he glared at her and she broke off, raising her eyebrows. He wrenched open the refrigerator and handed her a coke, taking other drinks out for the girls.

"You want to tell them you're leaving?" he asked pointedly. She chewed her lip, smirking a little. He nodded. "You're staying," he confirmed shortly, shrugging his shoulders.

* * *

**Friday December 10th 1993. Home of Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Kelly Gibbs, and Elizabeth Gibbs. Basement. 11:31 p.m.**

She hadn't meant to stay as long as she did. Technically, she was still on duty, and when she returned, Munch had every right to be pissed at her. Yet she still stayed. She couldn't drag herself away. It was such a good atmosphere to be in.

That was probably why she did not find herself protesting when Jethro silently gestured to the basement after Kelly had retreated to her room, pajamas on, a book in hand. Elizabeth had been asleep for two hours.

"You don't think I've intruded enough?" she asked with a smirk, stepping off the basement stairs carefully. She flicked her eyes over the boat again. "You must be sick of me."

He glanced at her, looking at her sharply before he headed to the workbench.

"Kelly acted like herself today," he said, shrugging as he reached up to the shelves and shoved stuff around. He didn't say anything else and she rolled her eyes at his silence, walking over to the boat and reaching out to touch it again.

She heard the clink of glass and a thud and looked over. He had leaned forward on the counter and hung his head, his hands clenched next to a bottle of alcohol. Jenny tilted her head, looking at him intently.

"She's going to be okay, Jethro," she offered gently.

He lifted his head, straightening a little.

"It's been a week," he said tersely, opening the bottle and sloshing it into two mason jars. She gave his back an odd look. "Feels longer. Feels too short, too," he muttered nonsensically. Jenny pushed away from the boat. She folded her arms and walked over, leaning her hip against the counter next to him.

"The trial starts Tuesday," she said mildly. "Next week is going to be the longest of your life," she warned. "And then," she said slowly, "you can move on with your lives."

He shook his head, pushing the bottle away. She could see now that it was bourbon, good bourbon, judging by the proof and brand. He grimaced and picked up a mason jar full of it, raising it to his lips.

"Thank you," he said gruffly. "For what you've done for her," he muttered, taking a drink. He closed his eyes briefly. Jenny didn't say anything. She glanced over at the boat, her brow darkening slightly.

When she looked back over, he was staring at her intently, his eyes guarded and studious. He had changed; his look was determined. She arched an eyebrow and he straightened, picking up both mason jars. He thrust his foot to the side and hooked a stool around it, dragging it forward. He moved around her and kicked out another one.

"Sit," he said, nodding firmly.

She twisted her mouth, slightly amused, and did so slowly, propping her foot on one of the bars of the stool. He handed her a mason jar full of bourbon, taking a seat slowly.

"You were raped," he said bluntly.

She immediately steeled herself, but was surprised that she didn't feel the need to shut down as she usually did. She had thrown a few hints in his face to shut him up when he was fighting her. She smiled wryly.

"You profiled me," she remarked stoically, swirling the bourbon in her jar.

"No," he said, with a slight shake of his head. She raised her brows, but she believed him immediately, from the look in his eyes. "Kelly told me you were hurt like she was," he said.

"Ah," Jenny replied, taking a drink of the bourbon. She might as well. He was clearly going to ask her to talk. She figured he had a right to know why he should trust her to help his daughter if her future psychological health depended on it.

"Talk," he ordered.

She looked at him impassively.

"It isn't a bedtime story," she remarked neutrally. "Care to explain why you're interested?"

"Because you care about Kelly," he said firmly. "That means something to me."

She smiled a little, taking a slow drink of the bourbon. It stung her throat; she wasn't much of a drinker of hard liquor. She wasn't a drinker at all. It burned in a good way though, and unlocked her vocal chords. She lowered the jar to her hands and cradled it, tilting her head.

"I was older than Kelly," she started simply. "My parents died in a car accident when I was six; drunk driver. My mother was picking Dad up from a tour in Germany, never saw them again. He was a colonel. Army." she shrugged her shoulders. "It was tough. My aunt kept me for almost two years, but turned out I was _too_ _difficult_ for her to handle, so she booted me to foster care," Jenny paused, remembering the first few families she'd stayed with. "It wasn't bad, but it wasn't home. People aren't always…kind," she said delicately, looking at him.

She wanted to see if he'd change his mind. Hers wasn't the worst of foster care horror stories, but it wasn't pretty, either. His facial expression hardly changed. He rested his jar on his knee, looking at her intently.

"When I was twelve, they put me with Nancy and Rick Moore, yuppie couple, Nancy was a "do-gooder". Rick probably could have cared less. They didn't have any kids, and it wasn't paradise, but it wasn't hell either, not for a while," she explained, looking at him.

She refused to quail under his gaze because she knew she would when she got to the 'good part'.

"Nancy travelled, Rick didn't. One week, she leaves to attend some conference in Atlantic City. I was fourteen. I guess Rick decided that was as good a time as any to start raping me," she said, flicking her eyes away immediately after she said it.

"Your foster father raped you?" he growled after a moment. She looked back at him bitterly and gave a small smile.

"Not every girl has a father like you," she remarked. "Or even a father figure," she took a deep breath and shoved back her hair, meeting his eyes again. "He told me I was beautiful, he couldn't keep his eyes off me, I had such a _natural_ beauty," she mocked. "He raped me, he kissed me goodnight, and he went to _bed_," she said emphatically. "He _slept_, while I cried until I was sick, scared out of my mind."

Jenny stopped, tilting her head for lack of anything to do. If he wanted her to talk she would have to go at her own pace. He moved his head as if to crack his neck but then stopped, watching her. His jaw was clenched tight again.

"I called Nancy and screamed at her to come home and when I told her what he'd done to me and showed her the bruises and bite marks, she slapped me," Jenny said quietly. "She cut my lip with that sick rock of an engagement ring he'd given her and said she wouldn't listen to me make up bullshit stories to hide the fact that I was a whore and that," Jenny paused, lifting her hands dramatically, "was the end of that."

She picked up her mason jar, took a drink, and stood up, looking at it impassively, and then lowering to to look at him.

"The second time he raped me, I fought him, and it hurt me so badly I thought I was going to die," she said dully. "Then I quit fighting, and after a while, I quit vomiting every time, and stayed out of the house as much as possible," Jenny smirked and set down the mason jar, leaning against the counter instead of sitting.

She closed her mouth, because suddenly, tears were leaping into her throat and her eyes and she didn't want to talk anymore. But she did. She smiled through whatever else she was feeling.

"It got to the point that the only way I knew to stop fearing men was to fuck them, so I made Nancy proud and proved her right in that regard," she threw out nonchalantly.

He gave her a sharp look, as if he resented her debasing herself.

"You were fourteen, you weren't a slut," he said shortly.

"No," she fired back firmly. "No, slut isn't the right word. I believe you _do_ use 'whore' if you're being paid for it."

"Jen," he said gently.

She locked her eyes onto his; wincing at the soft, gentle tone.

"I'm not being flippant, Jethro," she said in a quiet, terse voice.

She walked over to the boat slowly and rested her hand on it, admiring the woodwork and staying silent while she looked over the smooth soon-to-be masterpiece, her eyes hard and somewhat watery.

"You asked me why I was allowed the SVU assignment," she murmured turning to him. She leaned against the rib of the boat for support. "You don't know how I became a part of the police force," she said quietly.

He shook his head in agreement.

"I was seventeen when Vice busted me for prostitution; they caught me with a John downtown and dragged me in. They realized I was under age and tried to get my name and address out of me, but I refused. I wanted to stay in the lock-up rather than go back to that house. They called in SVU because I was considered a child under the law and I was involved in a sex crime—which was a stretch, but poor Vice had no idea what to do with me," she shifted her head, crossing her arms and focused on him intently.

"Munch and Cragen were partners then, they took my case. Munch knew right off the bat something was wrong…there was no reason for a seventeen-year-old girl to opt for sleeping in a holding cell over going home. He and Cragen drove me back to Nancy and Rick's when I told them where I lived, and I don't remember what made me say it, but as John was taking me to tell them what had gone down, I just turned and said to him…'He's raping me. He's been raping me since I was fourteen, and if you don't get me out of here, I'll fucking kill myself' and he looked at me, nodded his head, and sent me right back to the car with Cragen."

Jethro looked at her as she talked, and continued looking at her as she fell silent.

"There's nothing worse, Jethro," she said quietly. "The fear, the shame, everything, there's nothing darker. Nothing hurts more. And because of my record, my prostitution bust and lack of physical evidence, and Nancy and Rick's influence in the community…he didn't get convicted, his lawyer made me look _bad_, and the courts put me back in their house until I was eighteen," she whispered. She shook her head.

"I wasn't going to let him do it," she said softly. "Munch and Cragen…they gave me a lot of strength, and I wasn't going to let Rick touch me again. I refused to get in the car with them in the parking lot, and when he reached out to force me, I pushed him back. Munch and Cragen came out of the courthouse right as he backhanded me and threw me up against the car, and Nancy…she just stood there and shouted at me. Munch went to pull him off of me, Nancy went to fight Munch, Cragen grabbed me and pulled me away…," she swallowed, telling it like a play-by-play. "Munch hesitated to hit Nancy and Rick grabbed for me. I took Cragen's gun from his holster," she paused, narrowing her eyes as she looked at Jethro. "And I shot him. And nothing has ever felt as good."

She looked down briefly, and then looked up, sitting back on the boat slowly and pushing her hand through her hair again. She looked at him quietly, her throat locking up.

"And I've never told anyone that," she said hoarsely. "Official reports state that John Munch shot Rick Moore to protect a rape victim. They don't say that I shot him once to keep him back, and I shot him again because he hurt me, and I shot him a third time because it felt so fucking _good_," she hissed.

Jethro took a slow drink of his bourbon, considering her intently His eyes were softer than usual, not the guarded, cobalt hard blue. He was focused on her, and it made her feel comfortable rather than skittish. She wasn't sure why she felt a connection with him that made her want to share this with him.

She had accepted it as a chapter in her life and a part of her. She was past it; the people in her life now had made that possible. That still didn't make it pillow talk.

"You became a cop because of them," he stated.

"It wasn't that easy," she said softly. "I was a mess, I was scared, and I was alone — fucked up, plain and simple."

"Drugs?" he asked.

"No," she answered. "No alcohol, either. It was the prostitution for me. I was numb and I hated how weak I always felt. Munch really pushed me to the limit making me tell him everything and forcing me to keep going. I got through a junior college, and flipped on the guys who used to play pimp for me to expunge my record. I had dinner with Munch once and he talked about this case…this case with a girl, twelve years old, and he asked me to talk to her. And I didn't want to, but I did, and after…I saw that I had been through something that could help another girl not fall into the same hell I had," she said softly. "He recommended me for the police academy, and there was no argument over whether I'd be allowed to go to SVU. Few months in, Munch forced me into therapy with Huang."

She stopped. She stood up and walked back to the counter, flashing a quick smile at him as she snatched up the Mason jar and took a long drink, her eyes stinging at the burn. Good, perhaps he'd think the tears were from the alcohol. She ran her hand through her hair again and looked at him, her hands braced on the counter.

"John saved my life," she choked out.

Jethro shifted, leaning forward on his knees. He set his mason jar on the table and looked at her impassively, his eyes searching hers.

"I do understand what Kelly's going through," she said intently. "I'm not going to let her go through what I did," she said. "I promise you, Jethro."

He shook his head slowly, licking his lips, and stood up. He moved closer to her, one arm resting on the counter, turned towards her sideways. She smirked and tossed her hair out of her face, tilting her head at him.

"She needs you," he said gruffly. "You're good with her, Jen; you're good with Liz, too."

"Why do you call me that?" she demanded shortly, narrowing her eyes. "Why 'Jen'?"

He shrugged.

"Fits," he muttered simply.

She snorted, shaking her head slightly.

"You, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, are a strange man," she murmured, taking up her jar and taking another drink. She clutched it tightly as she set it back down, not quite ready to let go of it. She took a shaky breath and laughed a little, trying to keep from bursting into tears all of a sudden.

"They're sweet girls," she complimented softly, looking at the smooth wood of the counter.

"You ever think of having kids, Jenny?" he asked curiously. He wondered if what she'd experienced and what she saw everyday derailed that desire if only because she was terrified she might see her own child go through it.

She gave a bitter smile and shook her head.

"No. It's immaterial," she muttered. She felt him look at her quizzically. "Doesn't matter, Jethro. I can't have them," she said, flattening her hand on the table.

She flinched when she felt him place his hand on her back gently, startled. He didn't remove it but eased the touch a little. His hand was warm and unthreatening. She was so unused to simple, quiet empathy like this from another person.

"He did that to you?" he asked sharply, through clenched teeth, she could tell. "Er, he hurt you that severely?" Jethro was clearly struggling to ask if it had been a result of the rape.

Again, she shook her head. She looked up at him.

"I did it to myself," she growled hoarsely. "I don't drink because I _got_ drunk once, I thought it would knock me out while I was turnin' tricks, make it less nauseating—and all it did was loosen up my common sense and I didn't make the bastard wear a condom," she revealed shakily. "I got pregnant, and I was fifteen, and I didn't _think_—I had a sketchy, cheap abortion," she reached up and covered her mouth, shuddering.

She slumped down, covering her face with her hands. That was the straw that broke the camel's back; she started crying. Quiet, restrained tears that she could hardly manage to hide from Jethro.

He touched the back of her head, resting his hand in her hair.

"The abortion butchered...me."

"God, Jen," he murmured huskily.

He reached around her front and turned her towards him, his eyes stricken. He couldn't imagine such suffering, not even in what Kelly had been through. She moved back and started to turn away but he instinctively pulled her closer, resting his hands on her arms lightly and letting her cry.

She quieted down slowly and he pushed her back, guiding her to the stool again and pulling his up closer in front of her. She shoved her hair behind her ears, her make-up smeared messily, her cheeks flushed and streaked with tears.

Her hands were shaking as she clasped them under her chin, looking at him desperately.

"I regret it every day," she said earnestly. She shook her head, pressing her lips together tightly and closing her eyes briefly. "I took an innocent life, I took away something that could have saved me, I," she paused, swallowing hard. She steadied her voice a little. "I regret it. I wouldn't make the same choice again."

"The situation," he muttered, looking at her intently again, gently, "you were young, considering the circumstances—"

"Don't," she pleaded, soft and firm. "Don't justify it like that; it wasn't a rape baby, it was a trick baby, and I didn't have a right to sacrifice it on the altar of my mistakes. It _would_ have been different if the rape had knocked me up, but it _didn't_." she whispered. "_I_ was irresponsible."

She bowed her head again, her lips trembling. Jethro reached out and grasped her hand, squeezing her trembling fingers soothingly. Her face crumpled and her brow knit, furrowing. She looked up, her eyes narrow, her mouth tense.

"You have a little girl upstairs whose pain you have to deal with every day," she said shortly, looking at him in the eyes. "Why take it upon yourself to deal with mine?" her question was bitter.

"You needed it," he said.

She smiled wryly through her tears.

"Nah," she scoffed. "People aren't like that, Jethro. They don't help others selflessly," she said.

"Then why are you here?" he fired back. She was reminded of what she'd said to him the first few days after Kelly had been raped, that she wanted to help Kelly because she could and because she cared.

She studied Jethro for a moment and then smiled genuinely, biting her lip to steady it. She rubbed her thumb over his hand on her knee and squeezed his fingers back. She cleared her nose and her throat, blinking away tears.

"Thank you, Jethro," she said quietly.

"No," he shook his head firmly. "We're even."

She smiled sadly and reached up to rub her temple, looking over at the boat.

"I have to go," she said softly, straightening up. She smirked balefully. "I'm on duty until six a.m.," she confessed.

"Damn," he murmured.

"I do my best work at night," she said drily. He smirked good-naturedly, and she was glad he had the humor to see some sort of amusement in her joke. She thought she might have lost it years ago if she couldn't find the humor in things.

"I'll walk you out," he offered warmly, nodding his head. He stepped back, allowing her to head for the stairs first. Her flat leather boots thumped against the old wood softly as she walked, careful to avoid creaks and keep quiet so as not to wake the girls.

She opened the door, slipping her coat and gloves on, and he took it from her, forgoing both even in light of the snow that had started fall and the biting cold December air. The porch light flickered on dimly as she walked to her car, Jethro on her heels.

She cocked her head and paused in front of her squad car, stopping and leaning against it comfortably as she turned to look at him, her head tilted as she looked up. His height difference was apparent when she leaned.

He was more than good-looking, not to say she hadn't noticed his looks before. She had blown Munch off when he claimed she was attracted to Jethro, but she might allow that she was, even if she knew that was not why she was hanging around. She had liked talking to him, or rather, talking at him. He hadn't pitied her; he hadn't said anything stupid. He didn't threaten her.

"You waitin' for me to open the car door?" he asked slowly, the stern look on his face betrayed by a rare smirk in his blue eyes. She smiled, shaking her head, and took her keys from her pocket, clicking the automatic locks open.

"You're the only man who hasn't looked at me differently after finding out I used to turn tricks," she remarked mildly.

"You're not turnin' tricks now," he pointed out shortly. "The past is the past." He shrugged, and she smiled, nodding her head in approval. She pushed off her car, turning to get to the driver's side, and her faithful leather boots betrayed her in favor of an unseen patch of black ice.

She gasped as she slipped, thrusting out her arms. Her elbow ganged against the front of her car and she cursed, but Jethro grabbed her other arm and stopped her from hitting the concrete driveway, helping her back up.

"Black ice," she hissed angrily, scuffing her foot in it tentatively. "Goddammit," she swore, reaching out to brace herself against his chest as she looked around warily, wincing at the throb in her elbow.

"Jen? You okay?" he asked, peering at her sharply.

She shrugged and nodded, looking over at him to thank him yet again for saving her ass from a nasty fall. He touched her elbow gently, running his hands over the red mark. She wasn't sure who moved first, maybe him, maybe her, but his body was close and he was warm and she could smell him—intoxicating, like the sawdust in the basement and the bourbon—and her mouth was against his before she could register it.

She kissed him hard, her hand fumbling at his collar, and he grasped her cheek in his hand, his tongue probing her lips until she was kissing him much too intimately for the driveway and her blood was pounding in her ears. He pressed his hand into her hip and pulled her tight against him, she opened her mouth under his, her heart skipping beats, and that's where it ended, with her turning her face away so he couldn't look at her, and him looking up over her head.

He loosened his grip, but he didn't let go.

She pulled her hand from his collar and pressed it to her mouth, swallowing hard until she trusted herself to speak.

"That was a bad idea," she said shortly, furious with herself. Her head was spinning. She shivered as he slipped his hand off of her neck, his fingers brushing the skin of her throat and pulling through her hair delicately.

She stepped away from him and he reached up, shoving his hand through his hair. He looked frustrated and tired.

"Goodnight, Jethro," she said gently, offering him a no-harm, no-foul smile. He nodded, moving past her and opening her car door. She rolled her eyes. She came around and leaned over it, hesitating briefly. She couldn't find anything to say, and she couldn't kiss him again, even if her body was suddenly aching for his mouth. "See you at the trial."

She got in the car and he slammed the door. She fastened her seatbelt, took a deep breath, shook her head, and backed out expertly, refusing to cast a glance at him as she checked the dashboard clock and sped back to the station house.


	8. The Eighth

_A/N: With all the AP tests finished, I know not what to do with myself and see no reason to continue attending classes. Countdown? 10 days left until break. _

_I toyed with the events of this chapter for a while, uncertain whether or not I wanted it to happen. In the end, I did, and whether or not you approve/think its OoC is up to you.( Ominous, I know.)_

**

* * *

**

**Tuesday December 14th 1993. Washington D.C. 14th Precinct; SVU. 1:05 p.m.**

Jennifer Shepard was busy staring into space, her index and middle finger pressed lightly against her bottom lip, when she was rudely interrupted.

"When do you have to be in court, Shepard?" Cragen asked loudly from the doorway of his office.

She looked up, squinting her eyes a little. She registered slowly that he was talking to her and blinked, straightening and pulling her fingertips away from her lips.

"Trial starts at three," she answered mechanically. It was Tuesday. Most of her weekend had been spent at work. She was stressed; anticipating Grey's trial, and on top of that, they'd been hit with two rapes and a molestation case and there was another kid involved, a boy this time.

Cragen nodded.

"Go with Munch, check out the Knight boy's situation at his grandmother's and see if you can get him to talk anymore," he ordered. "When you're done, take an hour to get dressed for court."

Jenny sighed as she swung her legs off of their usual place on her desk and yanked open her desk drawer, equipping herself with her usual gun, badge, identification, et cetera. Munch finished a few things on his computer, still in his coat from where he'd been out with Fin at a rape victim's place of work, and straightened, waiting for her.

She stood, wriggling her toes in her boots to disperse the pins and needles, and snatched her own coat and scarf from the back of her chair, giving him a nod to indicate she was ready.

"The Knight boy, he lives in Anacostia?" Munch asked, furrowing his brow.

"No, he's right outside of Quantico Marine Base," she said, giving him an odd look. Munch wasn't typically forgetful about details. He gave her the ghost of a smile, holding the elevator door for her.

"Just seein' if your head's on your shoulders," he remarked nonchalantly as he stood next to her and she pressed the direction for the garage. She glanced at him, tightening her jaw a little, and closed her mouth, unsure if he had some sort of probing conversation up his sleeve.

He smirked.

She shook her head with a small smile as they found their way to the squad car. Munch, in possession of the keys, frowned when there was no fight for the right to drive, and the absence of such cemented his suspicion that there's was something on his partner's mind.

He looked at Jenny as somewhat of a daughter. Somewhat. He'd never wanted kids, so it wasn't exactly a paternal feeling, but he liked to look out for her, though she didn't much need it since she'd become a cop and cleaned herself up. He had been there when she'd been a scared seventeen-year-old rape victim, and he'd been there when she'd taken down her first perp as a member of the DC police force. So, yeah. He cared when something was up.

Any drive to the Quantico area was always pleasant; it was out of the city, quiet, and much more scenic.

He glanced over as Jenny relaxed in her seat and propped her feet up on the dashboard, running her hands through her long red hair and holding an elastic thingy in her mouth to tie it up. He decided to be an underhanded bastard and attack her while she couldn't respond right away.

"Something's wrong with you," he said brightly.

She paused and shot a glare at him, slowing her motions deliberately. When she'd satisfied herself looking in the mirror of her visor and flicking it shut, she turned her head to him pointedly.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"It's supposed to mean something is wrong with you."

"Cute," she remarked airily, turning her eyes back to the front. She swept bangs out of her eyes. "I'm going to go ahead and establish that everything is right with me, okay?"

He shook his head.

"No," he said firmly. "Something shook you up the night you waltzed off the job to chit-chat with Kelly Gibbs and you're fixating on it."

"Are you sure you're not just pissed because you had to cover my ass for half my shift?" she asked mildly, cursing inwardly. Damn Munch for knowing her so fucking well.

"Positive."

"I'm not fixating."

"Are too."

"That's not very mature, John."

"You're avoiding the issue, Jen," he retorted, mimicking her lofty voice.

She shot a narrow look at him.

"I don't sound like that," she muttered.

He grinned, and watched the road for a minute before sobering up and looking at her for a moment. She looked back defiantly.

"Do you have a specific concern you would like to address?" she asked loudly.

"I covered for you for close to seven hours, past midnight, so yeah, there's a _concern_ I'd like to address," he said testily.

Jenny chewed on the inside of her lip. She shrugged.

"I appreciate the cover, John," she said sincerely.

"You damn well should, now what's the rest of the story? Kelly may have called you, but you stayed for her father," growled Munch, making a quick right turn.

Jenny looked at him neutrally.

"He needed to know what she'd said," she said impassively.

"Agent Gibbs is under your skin, Jenny," Munch pointed out.

"Jealous?" Jenny threw at him sharply, wanting the conversation dropped.

Munch snorted good-naturedly.

"Wary," he grunted after a moment. "Huang says you identify with the girl in a weird way, I get that, it's great you're trying to help. She needs somethin' like that, but there's a line you can't cross with the father, and I don't get why he makes you tick."

Jenny chose her words carefully.

"He has a savior complex, a messiah thing," she said, pinning it down in that moment. He wanted to save people, he connected with people, and he felt like he was responsible for them. That's why Kelly's rape was tearing him up so badly. He saw it as another failure after he lost his wife.

"Yeah, and you've got a bit of a damsel in distress thing," Munch muttered.

Jenny laughed sarcastically. She fell silent, and then leaned her head back against the seat.

"I told him."

"You told him what?"

"Everything. I told him everything."

Munch looked at her. He looked away, and looked back quickly, his face changing. She met his eyes the third time he looked and his brow twitched a little. She nodded slightly, her mouth going pale around the edges.

"The abortion, too," she said softly, answering his unspoken question.

Munch stayed silent for another moment.

"Why?" was all he asked, backing off of her.

She lifted her shoulders, looking to the ceiling.

"I can't explain it John. It's just something I feel. Does that make sense? It's a mutual understanding I get from him, he's not full of shit like everyone else. I just feel it," she murmured.

"All I feel are alimony checks and too much Chinese take-out," Munch grumbled, and Jenny grinned, aware it was his way of dealing with her. He smirked and turned the car onto a residential road, searching the house numbers for the Knights' home.

"I take it your done lecturing?" she remarked primly.

He glared at her and pulled into the driveway.

"Focus on your job, Jenny," he said simply. "Get through the trial."

* * *

**Tuesday December 14th 1993. District of Columbia Courthouse. 3:00 p.m. **

She was at the courthouse at the exact designated time, trussed up in ultra thin stilettos for the occasion and even a nice skirt and blouse getup. She didn't generally like the prissy Alex Cabot look, but she had enough self-confidence hidden in her somewhere to admit it looked good on her.

She shoved her empty cup of strong espresso into a garbage can and followed Alex and the court stenographer into the courtroom silently, her heels' clicking simply mingling with everyone else's. The line-up for today ran the gamut from the Secret Service policeman who'd been first on the scene with Kelly to George Huang to Jenny herself. Kelly had another day of peace until she'd have to face the jury bright and early tomorrow morning.

Jenny trusted Alex to swing them in Kelly's favor today.

"Prosecution, you may proceed with your opening statement."

Jenny's eyes were on Logan Grey and only Logan Grey as Alex's crisp, clear voice rang around the courtroom, laying out the bare facts of the case and setting up the District of Columbia's argument. I was to the point, almost brutally blunt, and caused a few disapproving frowns from the jury in Grey's direction.

He sat silently, his head bowed slightly, not looking at anyone. Jenny grit her teeth as his counsel stood up; Spitzer took to the jury with wide, pleading eyes.

"Imagine being unable to control your actions. Imagine committing an act that you abhor and that you must live with that you could not innately prevent…"

Jenny's stomach lurched uncomfortably. She thought she would vomit if she had to listen to that godforsaken women say '_imagine'_ one more time, and coax the jury to pretend they had a condition that Grey himself was faking.

She was relieved when Alex was granted permission to call her first witness.

"Your Honor, the state calls Secret Service Police Officer Al Ridley to the stand," Alex said, and Jenny glanced over her shoulder as the man came forward. She vaguely recognized him, perhaps from that night, perhaps from some other passing moment in the cops' circuit. He took the stand, was sworn in, and Alex began.

"Mr. Ridley, how long have you been a member of the Secret Service Police force?"

"Thirteen years," he answered clearly.

"Please tell the court where you were on the night of Friday, December third."

"On patrol, ma'am. I work the graveyard shift, always have, guess I always will. I got L street through O street and ever'thing in between," he obliged.

Alex nodded.

"Mr. Ridley, on that night, what was it that caused you to be called to M street?"

"Well, I got a radio buzz from dispatch 'bout a nine-one-one call that came in, a woman in one of the apartments on M reported a lot of screaming and thumping around in the alley. Said it sounded like a man and a younger girl, fightin' or—"

"Objection; hearsay," Spitzer threw out sharply.

Alex turned to Judge Petrovsky with a short glance at Spitzer.

"Your Honor, Officer Ridley is repeating the contents of a dispatch message and a nine-one-one call. If the defense would like us to acquire the tape, we can," she said, a touch of sarcasm in her tone.

"That won't be necessary," Petrovsky said, giving Spitzer a reprimanding look. "I trust you won't object to allowing this police officer to give an honest account of what he was told?"

Spitzer resumed her seat, nodding in her sharp, birdlike way.

"Please continue, Mr. Ridley," Petrovsky allowed.

"So after I get this call, I radio the information out, tell a few other guys to follow me up or get there first if they're closer, but I end up at M street first. Figure it was about three to five minutes after the call, 'cause I was near L street when I got it," he seemed to think for a minute, nodded, and continued. "Anyway, I get there, get my flashlight, my gun, get outta the car to check it out, and I hear this real weak scream and a crash and silence, so I went into the alley the noises came from cautiously. Once I shined the flash light around, I saw no one was around, I start checking the area and that's when I found her," he paused, looking at Alex.

"Found who, Mr. Ridley?" she prompted curiously, right on cue.

"The little girl. Didn't know her name yet, but she looked in bad shape. I stopped, took her pulse, it was strong, so I called for a bus and back-up and ordered some cops to search the area for suspicious persons."

"Elaborate some on the state of the victim, Kelly Gibbs, officer. Was she…unconscious? Bleeding?"

"Unconscious and bleeding, yes ma'am, and—"

"Objection. Your Honor, the prosecution is leading the witness," Spitzer interrupted.

Alex paused. She looked at Petrovsky, waiting for a verdict.

"Am I to understand mentioning facts stated in the official reports of a crime is no longer acceptable in front of a jury?" she asked sweetly.

"Overruled, Ms. Spitzer," Petrovsky said. "You will be careful the next time you make an objection simply to stall in my courtroom and attempt to throw off the witness's story," she said shortly, and gave Alex a look as well. "Watch your suggestions, Ms. Cabot. Continue," she waved her hand.

Alex simply nodded her head at Officer Ridley.

"The victim was unconscious but she was breathing, and she was bleeding from the back of her head," he indicated at the base of his skull, "and her dress was soaked in blood around her thighs, which EMS declared stemmed from the genitals. She had scrapes and cuts on her arms and feet and a red mark on her cheek."

"Did the victim say anything when you arrived to help her?" Alex asked.

Ridley shook his head.

"She came to after a partner of mine showed up but she wasn't real clear and she wasn't talking. Didn't say a word while we were with her, but she was shakin' like she was colder than ice."

Alex inclined her head.

"Thank you, Mr. Ridley," she said.

Spitzer took her turn.

"Officer Ridley, did you find my client, the defendant, anywhere in the vicinity of the victim on that night?" she asked tersely.

"No I did not."

"Did any of your fellow policemen?"

"No, they did not."

"So, you cannot place my client anywhere near the scene?"

"Uh…no ma'am?"

"No further questions," Spitzer retreated.

"Anything more from this witness?" asked Petrovsky.

Alex held up her index finger and resumed standing, placing her palms lightly on the desk in front of her.

"Officer Ridley, did you at the time know who to look for when you searched the area?" she asked helpfully.

"We did not—we were also concerned about the victim," he answered, eager to do his part to help the prosecution.

"I need nothing more from this witness."

"You may step down, Officer Ridley," Petrovsky said matter-of-factly. "Ms. Cabot, move along, your next witness…"

Jenny took a deep breath, watching as Dr. Todd Gelfand was called to the stand to give the medical report on Kelly Gibbs. She listened stiffly, acutely aware that after the good doctor, she would be called to tie the secret service police and the Doctor together.

* * *

"When you examined Kelly Gibbs, what did you find?"

"It was evident she'd been raped. Her hymen had been recently perforated and the blood on her legs and inner thighs was fresh, some of it not dry yet."

"What other injuries did you find when you performed Kelly Gibbs' examination?" Alex asked, resting he hand behind her on her desk.

"Lacerations on her skin from the knees up, matching lacerations—as if scraped along the same surface—on her palms, hands, and arms. Heavy bruising to the thighs and tailbone, a prominent handprint on the buttock as well as the cheek."

Alex nodded, and posed her next question.

"What were the findings in the rape kit, Dr. Gelfand?"

"Pubic hairs not belonging to my patient, seminal fluid obviously not belonging to my patient, and we did find saliva on the neck of the patient, left from a bite mark," he explained carefully.

"And after your complete examination of the victim, you are sure then that Kelly Gibbs had been raped _that_ _night_. The injuries could not have resulted from an earlier rape or long term sexual abuse?"

"No," Dr. Gelfand agreed. "The puncture to her hymen, as well as the blood, was too fresh to have been sustained at any other time. The bruises, scrapes, and genetic material found inside her were also too fresh. Kelly Gibbs had been raped in the past hour."

"Dr. Gelfand, can you tell us anything about the victim's state of mind when you were with her—"

"Objection; the doctor is a medical professional not certified in psychology."

"Your Honor, I'm simply trying to give the jury a picture of the victim's behavior when Dr. Gelfand saw her," Alex defended.

"That may be true, but Ms. Spitzer is also right. Sustained," Petrovsky said.

Alex inclined her head gracefully in defeat and moved on.

"What were the medical effects of Kelly Gibbs' rape, Dr. Gelfand?"

"She sustained a minor concussion during the attack, so it was recommended she not be allowed to sleep for the next twelve hours, certainly a detrimental thing at that time. She would also experience considerable pain in the next few days due to the injuries to her pubic area," he answered.

"Thank you, Dr. Gelfand. No further questions," Alex allowed.

"I have no questions for the doctor," Spitzer said wisely, aware that anything she said to him would probably be shut down and flipped in the prosecution's favor. Petrovsky nodded.

"Dr. Gelfand, you may step down. Ms. Cabot?"

Jenny swallowed, snapping her eyes away from the brooding, ominous figure of Logan Grey as she watched Alex rise again.

"The state calls District of Columbia Special Victims Unit Detective Jennifer Shepard to the stand."

* * *

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you God?"

"I do."

"You may be seated."

Jenny took her seat, her shoulders straight, her head held high, and her eyes locked directly on Alex's. She smiled a little. Alex returned it.

"How long have you been a part of the District of Columbia's Special Victims Unit, Officer Shepard?"

"Three years," Jenny answered clearly, her expression confident. To many jurors and lawyers, that was nothing, but in SVU it was quite a feat. Few people stuck around for very long once the gritty content of the cases hit them.

Alex came forward, pacing slowly in front of the stand.

"You arrived at the scene on M street after secret service police and the ambulance. Enlighten the court on the events that night," she prompted.

"It was one of the days I wasn't on graveyard shift, and my partner and I were about to head out when the call came in about a rape. It was a little after ten when we got the call, and we got to the scene a few minutes later. The victim hadn't been taken to a hospital yet, which was an error on the side of the Secret Service police, but it gave me the opportunity to talk to her while everything was somewhat fresh in her mind. My partner talked to the surrounding secret service officers," she paused, unsure if Alex would want to throw something in.

"Where was Kelly Gibbs, if she hadn't yet been taken to a hospital?" Alex asked.

"Kelly was curled up on a stretcher covered in a blanket. I picked up the bag the police had found with her and checked the military ID they said was in there before I engaged her in conversation. She was cold and scared, and I gave her my coat because the blanket was insufficient warmth."

"What did Kelly Gibbs say to you, Officer Shepard?"

"First off? She said she wanted her father. My partner took my attention for a minute, and then we got her into the bus and started towards Bethesda Naval, because the ID she had said she was a marine dependent. She talked a little more in the ambulance; she told me she had been named after a colour and that she was eight years old. She started to cry when I asked her about her father and told me his name," Jenny explained.

Alex nodded, turning slowly and facing Jenny again. She stayed silent for a moment.

"Were you the officer who supervised Kelly Gibbs' rape kit?"

"Yes," Jenny said firmly, with a nod. "I stayed with Kelly when we arrived at Bethesda and talked her through the examination and the rape kit, and explained what would happen to the evidence. I also placed the call to her father informing him of her whereabouts."

"Did you question the victim after her exam?"

"I asked Kelly if she was feeling good enough to talk a little about what had happened," Jenny said carefully. "She told me someone had hurt her. She said she understood that she had been raped, but she didn't understand why. She said she had screamed and told the man to stop."

"Then Kelly Gibbs was coherent? She understood her situation and was aware of her surroundings?"

"Yes, there's no doubt about that," Jenny answered.

Alex nodded appreciatively.

"What was it in Kelly Gibbs' statement the next day that led you to believe the defendant was responsible?"

"Kelly said she could identify the voice of her rapist because of a 'soft, snaky' quality it had. It is rare for a victim so young to pinpoint a specific character trait she can identify, so naturally, we were on our guard for someone with such a voice. We checked out her ballet teacher, the school, and the pizza parlor where Kelly Gibbs had been that night."

"Yet you found no such suspicious voice," Alex remarked.

"No, we thought we had hit a dead end until Kelly's best friend Maddie Tyler informed us that there had been an employee at Pepperoni Pete's who spoke with a retainer and leered at Kelly all evening, whom Kelly also told Maddie made her feel scared," Jenny explained, strengthening the false doubt Alex had posed. "We were led to believe the retainer might have disguised the 'snaky' voice of the man who raped Kelly."

Alex tilted her head.

"Had you interviewed and employee with a retainer?"

"Yes we had. Upon returning to re-question him, we discovered he had walked out minutes after we first talked to him."

"What was that employee's name, Officer Shepard?"

"Logan Grey," she answered crisply, her eyes turning to him.

He looked up. He met her eyes and his expression didn't change. He rocked in his chair a little, somewhat playing the part of insanity. She refused to look away from him. She wanted to watch him for just a subtle sign as she gave her testimony. Something had to make him tick.

"And from that point, what was the ensuing course of events?"

"Logan Grey became our prime suspect. We may have taken it slower had he not disappeared, but the police generally take that as a pretty good sign a guy did something wrong," she said pointedly, flicking her eyes at the jury. Her gaze was back on Grey in an instant. "We started canvassing his background, got a warrant to search his apartment," she explained.

Alex returned to her desk and held up a plastic bag.

"Can you tell me what this is?"

"A butterfly barrette belonging to Kelly Gibbs," Jenny answered surely. "We discovered that in Logan Grey's bedroom, sitting on the nightstand. We focused the majority of our attention on bringing him in after that. He ran from us at the College Park metro station, fought a little, but we brought him in a little less than forty-eight hours later."

"He wasn't quite used to avoiding the police, was he?"

Jenny smirked slightly. Grey looked up at her this time. His eyes hardened just a little.

"Not at all. He wasn't used to running," she said shortly.

Alex nodded, and inclined her head to Petrovsky. She took her seat primly as Spitzer stood, and Jenny met the defense attorney's eyes, her jaw tightening. She didn't like the woman; her entire manner of carrying out a trial screamed 'petty', but Jenny was not afraid of her in any form or fashion. She'd seen much scarier things.

"How long have you been on the force, Miss Shepard?" Spitzer asked, blatantly ignoring her title and giving her a sweet look.

"Three years," Jenny reported neutrally.

Spitzer nodded.

"Why are we to believe that a mere three years on the force make you an expert in sex crimes?"

"The entirety of my _mere_ three years has been spent with the Special Victims Unit," she kept her voice cool. "I have considerable experience in the realm of sex crimes."

"It was due to a personal experience that you were even allowed the assignment so fresh on the job, correct?"

Jenny paused briefly, her eyes narrowing a little.

"Yes," was all she said.

"The point I mean to make is, you were raped, and because of that, were given special leave to take the SVU position," Spitzer pointed out bluntly.

"As you've already stated," Jenny said carefully. "I had personal experience."

"Yes. Perhaps it is due to your past that your actions in the field are so over-zealous," remarked Spitzer.

"Objection," Alex threw out pointedly, her voice calm.

Petrovsky nodded shortly.

"The jury didn't come to hear your ruminations, Ms. Spitzer. Stick to inquiries, preferably pertaining to the case at hand."

"Forgive me. I'll re-state," Spitzer said loftily. "Miss Shepard, is it true that your personal style in pursuit of perps is considered over-zealous by your precinct captain?"

"Over-zealous is not the term I would use," Jenny said mildly.

"What would you use?" asked Spitzer sharply.

"Determined," Jenny replied pointedly after a moment.

"Determined," repeated Spitzer thoughtfully. "So determined, it seems, you have often been delegated work with victims instead of perpe—"

"Objection. Your honor, is the counselor going to make a point? This is cross-examination, not a study of Officer Shepard's job," Alex said sharply.

"I'm starting to tire of the constant interruptions your technique is causing, Ms. Spitzer," warned Petrovsky sharply. "Get back on track."

Spitzer inclined her head.

"I simply wanted to establish that Officer Shepard," she seemed to have taken Alex's hint, "has in the past been considered headstrong to say the least in carrying out her duties. Is it possible, Officer Shepard, that once you thought my client might have been Kelly Gibbs' rapist, you dug your nails into the idea, and convinced yourself of his guilt?"

"No, it is not," Jenny said firmly. "Sufficient evidence was presented to secure the police a search warrant and subsequently an arrest warrant."

"That does not necessarily make my client guilty," Spitzer pointed out.

"No. DNA evidence does," retorted Jenny. She lifted her shoulders and pursed her lips in a sort of challenge, her eyes narrowing slightly. The muscles in her hands tightened where she grasped them in her lap. This woman was pissing her off.

"Why were you given the lead on this case, Officer?"

"The victim, Kelly Gibbs, responded well to me," Jenny explained tightly.

"Is it true that you prevented The Naval Criminal Investigative Service, a federal law enforcement agency Kelly Gibbs' father is employed by, from taking over her case?"

"It is. As a civilian, Kelly Gibbs was under our jurisdiction, and allowing Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs to handle her case would have been unprofessional at the least," Jenny said.

"True, and yet, Special Agent Gibbs requested you be placed in charge of his daughter's case, correct?"

"He did," Jenny answered carefully, keeping it honest as always. She glanced at Alex. Alex held up a hand slightly, as if to tell her to tread carefully.

"And why is that, Officer Shepard?" Spitzer asked silkily, looking at Jenny with a pointed little smirk.

"I assume because I was the first cop he spoke with," she said sharply. "Though I'm sure he also preferred someone in charge with whom his daughter had established a rapport."

"Ah. A rapport," Spitzer said, giving the jury a knowing eye.

"Objection," Alex said sharply. "This cross has become superfluous. What exactly is the defense trying to wheedle out of Officer Shepard?"

Petrovsky looked at Spitzer narrowly.

"Withdrawn," Spitzer said quietly. "No further questions."

She returned to her seat.

"Ms. Cabot?"

"Nothing further," Alex said gently to Petrovsky.

"You may step down, Officer Shepard," Petrovsky said. "The court will now recess for a ten minute period as the prosecutions next witness is to appear after his shift at the Hoover building ends," she announced. "Reconvene in exactly ten minutes." She popped her gavel a few times as Jenny approached Alex's desk stiffly.

Alex took her elbow and put her lips close to Jenny's ear.

"Spitzer tried to suggest you are sleeping with Agent Gibbs," she hissed quietly.

"I'm not an idiot, Alex," Jenny responded tersely. Alex nodded, pulling away a little as she shifted through some things.

"You reacted a little tensely. A few jury members noticed," Alex reprimanded.

Jenny swallowed hard and narrowed her eyes.

"I was offended," she ground out icily. She gave Alex a hard look. "I haven't slept with him, Alex," she said shortly, leaving the courtroom for a much needed breath of fresh air.

* * *

**Tuesday December 14th 1993. District of Columbia Courthouse. Lobby. 5:00 p.m.**

"How's it going?"

She was surprised to see Munch sitting lazily on a bench in the lobby of the courtroom. She made her way over, her hands tucked in the pockets of her skirt. She tilted her head a little.

"I have been called an over-zealous, inexperienced, brainless slut with poor judgment," she said brightly. "More or less."

"Ah, the joys of defense attorneys," Munch said airily. "Alex swinging it her way?"

Jenny nodded.

"It looks promising. Spitzer's managed to get on Petrovsky's bad side, but I think her tactic is aimed more at confusing the facts and flow. She's got Grey sitting there, alternately twitching or rocking. It's pathetic."

"She's a defense attorney," Alex said, re-appearing from a meeting in the judge's chambers with a tight look around her mouth. "Definition: pathetic."

Munch smiled wryly.

"It will be nice if you can put that little girl in front of a sympathetic jury tomorrow," he remarked.

Alex shrugged.

"I'm not overly concerned. Every jury is sympathetic to young rape victims."

"Not every jury," said Jenny sharply, catching Alex's eye out of the corner of hers.

Alex inclined her head.

"Granted," she murmured apologetically. "Not every jury. But this one will be," she affirmed with determination.

Munch nodded. Cabot looked over her shoulder and surveyed the area, waiting for George Huang to arrive from what he'd had to take care of at FBI headquarters today. Jenny watched Munch watching her, her thoughts elsewhere.

* * *

Huang was more than helpful in his allocution. He said more or less what he had told Alex and Jenny he would say: there were no obvious signs of psychological disturbance in the mind of Logan Grey. There was no pattern in his modus operandus to specifically suggest a fixation or a trademark.

Alex squeezed everything she could out of him, but Huang was never one to need much help. He knew his stuff and knew it damn well, and he was ever straightforward and blunt about what was true and what wasn't. He made juries believe him because he gave both sides and then gave an opinion.

Jenny had a small smile on her face as Spitzer began her cross.

She transferred her green eyes to Grey, watching him. The man watched Huang with a hatred in his eyes. She determined to watch the bastard through Spitzer's entire cross, studying, intent, to catch him get angry.

* * *

"Define a sociopath for the jury, Dr. Huang."

Huang cleared his throat calmly.

"A sociopath is a person afflicted with Antisocial Personality Disorder, a psychological condition in which an individual exhibits a pervasive pattern of disregard for and violation of the rights of others and unwillingness to conform to society," he explained neutrally. "A sociopath often appears completely normal to his peers, even likeable, for even though such an individual is unable to feel normal emotions such as conscience, he or she is more than able of emulating them."

Spitzer spread her hands wide.

"Is it not true that sociopaths are often marked in their personal history by drug or alcohol problems, mediocrity in school and sports, et cetera?"

"More often than not, yes. Though there are a few who have excelled at such things."

"Mr. Grey here was a young man knee deep in drug experimentation and mediocrity in school in his teenage years. He sits before us in trial and shows no emotion for what he is accused of doing—raping several young girls, killing six of them—and yet you do not classify him as a sociopath? Why is that?"

Huang shifted forward towards the microphone in front of him, speaking clearly.

"I saw no medical reason to classify him as one. Mr. Grey does not exhibit outwards signs of antisocial personality disorder: there is no history of violence towards animals, bed-wetting, or any of the usual tell-tale signs. In my clinical evaluation of him, Mr. Grey repeatedly informed me that he raped his victims because he loved them and they loved him in return. A sociopath would not experience the emotion of love, and would not use it in a defense," Huang explained.

"My client, as you stated, informed you in his session that he knew right from wrong and proceeded in his actions. Is that not the mark of a sociopath?"

"Perhaps, in some cases," Huang agreed. "Often a sociopath will take pride in actions, which Mr. Grey seemed not to do. His eyes did not move during out session; they did not dart around, become glassy or still. He was aware of what he was saying, as if he were concentrating."

"Are you accusing my client of pretending to be psychologically afflicted, Doctor?" asked Spitzer sharply.

"No, I am not," he answered levelly. "I am simply giving my medical opinion as a psychologist, which is what I was asked here to do."

"You spoke to my client for over an hour. Why do you think he continued to tell you he believed these girls loved him if it were not so?"

"There is a possibility that Mr. Grey believed he loved his victims, and that they loved him. However, I would not go as far as to say he had no control over his actions. An individual acting on impulse, with no other tough process, would not have had the presence of mind to remove the retainer Mr. Grey is now known to have removed, nor would he have had the sense to take his victim to a secluded place and bash her head against a solid object to quiet her."

Grey's eyes narrowed at Huang, and Jenny's eyes narrowed at him. She could sense both him and his attorney becoming frustrated. Spitzer couldn't wriggle her wan into Huang's armor. This case was not going well for her.

Grey was getting angrier. His eyes were darkening, getting hotter, harder. He had never been caught before; he was so sloppy and so haphazard and yet he'd never sat through this. Jenny felt a vindictive pleasure throughout. He was caught now. She was going to make sure he burned for what he'd done.

Huang's voice rang loudly in her ears, music to them, as he continued to weaken Spitzer's insanity defense.

* * *

**Tuesday December 14th 1993. Washington D.C. 14th Precinct; SVU. 7: 08 p.m.**

After the court had recessed until the following morning, Jenny attempted to focus back at the station house on the penultimate case report for a statutory case. Her head was throbbing, though, and her eyes were hurting, and all she was seeing were flashes of her trial years ago.

She knew in her gut Alex was going to convict. She had a knack for knowing when they'd get their way in court and when they wouldn't, and she always felt sick when she knew they wouldn't. The physical evidence in this case was overwhelming. The defense was weak at best.

She had a bad feeling, though, and she couldn't explain it. She stressed; if Spitzer had taken cheap shots at Jenny's own sordid past to try and shake her, to what means would she sink to break Kelly?

Jenny threw down the pen in her hand and scrubbed her hands over her face, sighing in frustration. She reached up behind her and tore her hair from its court-worthy demure twist and ran her fingers through it, shaking it over her shoulders.

She didn't know what to do with herself on day shift.

"Hey, Shepard, how's the Gibbs' case going?" Stabler asked loudly, strolling into the squad room. He looked thrilled to be about to head out relatively early tonight, probably aiming to see something of his kids' he thought he was going to miss.

She shrugged in a non-committal way.

"Alex is a damn good lawyer," she responded." The jury's not unsympathetic."

Elliot nodded, fiddling around for his things clumsily.

"Good to hear," he remarked. "Munch and I'll be in the courtroom tomorrow, Liv and Fin are taking the interview with the Knight family and Cragen wants a few of us down there since NCIS is probably gonna show their support and crowd in."

"What, he think they're gonna shoot the place up?" Jenny asked skeptically, leaning forward on her arms.

Stabler shrugged, pulling a heavy coat on and snatching his keys from the pocket.

"His orders, not mine, Jenny. I think it's to make Kelly Gibbs feel safer," he said thoughtfully, heading towards the door. "Not often you get a complainant like her!" he called, exiting the room.

Jenny leaned back, shoving her things away and nodding her head to herself.

She considered calling Jethro to let him know the details, but perhaps it would be better if she didn't. He might want to spend the night before the trial with his girls without unpleasant interruption.

She put her index finger against her lips, staring ahead blankly. Huang walked into the squad room with Olivia, and Munch moseyed in a moment later. She glanced at him, blinked her eyes slowly, and stood up, throwing them all for a loop.

"I'm going home," she said shortly, checking the clock. She'd technically been off since five, but court had run until almost seven. Munch lifted his brows. It was rare of her to leave when her shift was up.

"Hot date?" Olivia teased good-naturedly.

Jenny smiled wryly and fetched her coat from the corner, slipping into it.

"Yeah, me and two guys called Ben and Jerry," she shot back.

"So that's why they didn't call me back," Olivia retorted.

Jenny managed to laugh, giving Benson a small salute in appreciation.

"See ya tomorrow, Jenny," she said, returning to her conversation with Huang. "Get a good sleep, huh?"

Huang smiled at her and nodded. Jenny made sure she had with her everything she needed, holstering her service weapon at her hip and tucking it under her coat. It looked oddly out of place with her prim court outfit.

"Should I be worried?" Munch asked unconcernedly.

Jenny smiled.

"I actually am so depressed right now, I plan on driving my car into a ditch."

"Oh you're funny Jen. Real hilarious," he said, rolling his eyes. He looked at her pointedly.

"John, I'm fine."

"Good. Follow Benson's advice. And hey," he stopped her as she turned to leave. "Make sure Ben and Jerry are the only guys you go find tonight, hmm?" he suggested.

She gave him a sharp look.

"You know those days are over," she said quietly.

He nodded.

"Yeah, well, we all fall off the wagon," he remarked.

She swallowed, gave him a long look, and then nodded, pulling out of his grasp and heading out. It was colder, freezing, actually, and it was snowing. She disliked snow. It started out sparkling white and gorgeous and always ended up muddy, melted, and dirty.

* * *

**Tuesday December 14th 1993. Home of Jennifer Shepard. 7:18 p.m. **

Christmas lights were up on her street. She drove carefully in the growing flurry of snow and spared a few interested glances at the decorations her neighbors had up. She wasn't anti-Christmas, but she hadn't celebrated in a long time for various reasons.

Hers was one of the only Georgetown brownstones not aglow with spirit. It had been her parents' house, left to her when she came of age, and she adored it. She pulled her car into the snowy drive and paused when she realized there was already a vehicle there.

Her eyes flicked over the plates before she shut off her engine cautiously. She didn't recognize the car or the plates. Jenny got out slowly and retrieved her purse from the passenger seat, fingering her sidearm delicately as she slammed her door.

There was someone sitting on her front porch.

For safety's sake, she went ahead and drew her weapon, disliking the situation. This was her home; no one was allowed to surprise her at, in, or around it. She approached her front porch confidently. The individual looked up at her; his head had been angled towards the ground. It was a he, she was sure.

Jenny pointed her weapon firmly.

The movement triggered her porch light to flicker on, casting a glow over everything. The minute she saw who it was, she relaxed and rolled her eyes, relieved and intrigued all at the same time.

"Agent Gibbs," she breathed a little sharply. "Not a very considerate thing to do, sneaking around on a rape victim," she told him dryly. "_You_ should know better."

He looked up at her impassively and held up her spare key. She narrowed her eyes and cocked her head.

"Good thing I didn't let myself in," he remarked.

She nodded, taking the key from him and slipping past.

"A very good thing," she agreed quietly, opening her front door and looking at him briefly but pointedly as she tilted her head to indicate he should come in. "I would have shot you."

He closed the door, and didn't say anything, brushing snow off of his navy issue pea coat onto the mat in front of her door. She removed her own coat and saw his eyes take in her unusual outfit, lingering at her legs, her waist, her breasts.

"Court," she said shortly, explaining the attire.

She gestured to his coat and the hooks.

"Yeah, I know," he responded gruffly, shrugging off his coat after a hesitant moment. She took it matter-of-factly and hung it neatly next to hers, showing more control and blunt leadership than was normally part of her character. It was generally how she dealt when placed in situations that made her uncomfortable or uncertain; she acted powerful.

"Of course you do," she stated, stepping back as if she'd known all along. "That is why you're here," she said a little softer, pressing her tongue against her teeth.

"You thought somethin' else?" he asked with a small smile.

She shrugged and unfolded her arms, brushing them against her skirt.

"Perhaps to make an arrest?" she suggested with a small amount of mirth. He looked a bit quizzical, so she clarified with a wry smile: "Sexual harassment of a federal officer, hmmm?"

A look of remembrance crossed his strong features and he shrugged a little, as if just shrugging it right off.

"Don't worry about it," he said flippantly, meeting her eyes. She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes studiously a bit, and then brushed hair away from her face, nodding her head in the direction of her kitchen.

"I've got a fresh bag of ground Columbian blend if you're interested," she offered amicably. She gave a small grin. "Coffee addict's crack, if you ask me," she joked.

He smirked, slipping his hands casually into the pockets of the work-appropriate khakis he had on. He seemed to consider her for a moment and then nodded, accepting the coffee invite. She tilted her head behind her and turned on her heel, taking a deep breath as she trusted him to follow her into the kitchen.

She took the fresh bag of coffee from her cupboard and began the necessary preparations for brewing a pot.

"Where are your daughters?" she asked mildly, not at all opposed to small talk. She'd always gotten the impression he wasn't a talker, but she liked talking.

"Abby's place," he grunted. "Sciuto, the lab tech you talked to. Kelly needed a change of scene and Abs has been begging to have a sleepover," he trailed off at the end. Without thinking, Jenny responded:

"You trust your co-workers with your kids?" After she said it, she cringed. It might have been insensitive to suggest he didn't know who or what to trust with his daughter. His short answer was:

"You wouldn't trust yours?" He implied that it surprised him she worked with people she didn't completely and implicitly trust, but all she really heard was the vague question in there about how she'd deal with her kids, and she paused briefly in getting mugs out, forcing herself not to dwell on it.

She heard him shift behind her and drag a chair out as she placed the glasses on the counter.

"Sorry," he grunted, and he sounded sincere even through the roughness of his voice. She shrugged, glancing over her shoulder at him.

"Don't worry about it," she threw out with a little smile, reminding him of what he'd said earlier.

It was odd, but it made her more at ease around him, knowing as she did that he was in the loop about her past. She didn't feel like she had to keep up a façade or make up some swift story about 'what was wrong'.

She portioned out the first cups of coffee a few moments later and took them to the table, setting one down in front of him. As she wrapped her palms around her mug and sat down, blowing to cool it gently, she said:

"It's a good idea, for Kelly. A sleepover will be a nice bit of fun before her testimony." She drew one leg up in the chair with her as she always did, except she crooked it half-Indian style because of the skirt, and rested an arm over it lazily. Jethro draped his fingers over his mug like a spider and nodded slowly.

He lifted it, took a judgmental sip, and she supposed she received the seal of approval when his expression didn't vary at all, and took a larger one. He rested one arm on the oak table she used in her kitchen, his other firmly grasping the coffee mug as he set it back down, and looked up at her intently.

"The case, Jen," he asked of her slowly, his jaw set.

She blinked slowly, waiting a moment before she just started in on it. It was late and she had been in court the entire afternoon and long after her shift had ended. She hadn't particularly wanted to come home and rehash it; she usually kept strictly to the pact she made to keep her home her sanctuary and leave work at work.

She would have liked to relax before tomorrow, to take a moment to recoup, but she would do this for him. It spoke so clearly to how much he loved Kelly that he had driven to her house and waited for her to get home, just to prepare them for the case.

She nodded her head slowly.

"It's started off well," she said positively. "The court heard the Officer first on the scene, Dr. Gelfand, Dr. Huang, and myself today; the jury seemed sympathetic," she mused, running quickly over the nuances and details in her head. She chewed on her bottom lip.

She glanced at Jethro and leaned forward slightly, pursing her lips briefly before she spoke.

"Spitzer, Grey's attorney," she began informatively. "She's irritating, she's fighting on an odd angle—"

"Not guilty by reason of insanity?" he interrupted in a growl

Jenny nodded.

"That but also," she searched for the words. "Hmm. She stumbles through a tactic sort of meant to throw off the game. If Cabot gets in her zone, starts asking the right questions, Spitzer locks on and objects, distracts the witness, the jury, throws it off. Yeah, it's underhanded and hardly worthy of her Princeton degree, but it does damage to the jury's listening to the facts, or they miss something significant," she paused, looking at the subtle frown on his face. She looked up at his eyes and took a nonchalant sip of her coffee.

"She may or may not play dirty tomorrow. She took a few stabs at trying to shake me up," Jenny mentioned wryly. "Unsuccessfully."

"She ask about your rape?" Jethro asked bluntly.

She had never had someone ask her something like that in such a straightforward, no nonsense way. People were always walking on eggshells if they found out. Even Munch was careful, if he sensed she might get upset. Huang was the only one who bluntly referred to her rape, and he hardly counted. He was a doctor.

Jenny nodded.

"Alex didn't let her get far," she remarked. "But yes, she brought it up."

Jethro took a stiff sip of his coffee and then leaned forward a little, running his hand over his mouth before he spoke again.

"Is this woman going to harass Kelly?" he asked sharply.

Jenny looked at him intently, setting her cup down and then interlocking her fingers on her knee. She gave a small shrug, not to blow off his question, but to show she couldn't accurately answer, at least, not in a way that would give him totally comfort.

"Her job is to get Grey off," she said quietly. "So no, she's not going to be Kelly's friend, but I can't say if she'll approach Kelly with a condescending angle or a rude one. Either way," she paused and looked at him for a moment. "I think Kelly can handle it."

He made a low, angry noise in his throat, a muscle in his jaw jumping.

He rubbed a hand over his face again and let out a breath. He shook his head.

"She says she'll be fine," he muttered, glancing down at his coffee cup. "She shouldn't have to relive it," he growled.

"You can't protect her from reliving it, Jethro," Jenny said softly, a sad twinge to her smile. "She's never gonna get it out of her head, no matter how much she overcomes it. The nightmares won't stop. They'll just change."

He looked at her grimly.

"That your idea of a pep talk?" he asked sardonically.

She laughed a little.

"Hey, man, if I'd had someone to tell me the truth, to tell me what I was going to feel and face, I wouldn't have spent so many years as fucked up as I was," she said bluntly.

He studied her, taking a slow drink of his coffee without taking an eye off of her. It was disconcerting, in an intriguing way. She wanted to know what he was thinking about her. His eyes flickered, the first flash of uncertainty she'd seen. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, and she sensed he was hesitating to speak up.

"I don't know what Kelly would have done," he muttered in a gruff manner, "if you hadn't made her feel safe when I wasn't there. Or…couldn't talk to her."

Jenny lifted a shoulder, refraining from saying much. She saw it was a fairly impressive statement for him to make, and didn't want to make him cringe by saying something stupid or corny back, so she just smiled, and inclined her head.

She was equally glad she'd been able to reach out to Kelly, that he had let her. She hoped he would continue to, until the day Kelly stopped needing someone. It made her feel good to know she was helping save a little girl from the pain she'd gone through.

She shifted, standing up gracefully and pushed her coffee mug away, brushing her skirt out with a small half-smile.

"Take a walk with me," she suggested lightly, folding her arms and splaying her fingers over her oxford. She scrunched the material a little. He stood and she led him out of the kitchen, taking sure steps to her carpeted stairs and ascending them without glancing back.

"In here," she said, finally looking over her shoulder and nodding towards her cracked bedroom door. She pushed it open with one hand and cast her gaze around, frowning as she searched for the cardboard box she'd had out Sunday afternoon…ah.

Jenny paced over to her closet, pausing to slip off her ridiculously high heels before she crouched down, heaved the box up, and set it on her bureau, patting the top fondly. She turned towards Jethro and placed a hand on her hip.

"This stuff is for Kelly," she said matter-of-factly. "I was digging some heels out of the closer the other day and found some of my old stuff," she explained easily. "Things that…helped me a lot when I was stuck in that hell, before I told the cops Rick was raping me."

Jethro moved to look in the box. He stood next to her and peered in, interested by what she'd said.

Jenny smiled and opened the flaps of cardboard a little, pushing away from the table.

"Here," she said breathlessly as she stretched up to reach a shoe box in the top of her closet. She pulled out the three old tapes she'd placed on top especially for Kelly before she'd been called in on a case.

She smiled a bit sheepishly, holding up the tapes like a hand of poker.

"The finishing touch," she said gallantly. "These three artists were half of what kept me sane."

He took them, narrowing his eyes as he glanced at the faded titles, reading with squinted eyes. Jenny smirked and looked in the box, ruffling some things around.

"I threw in my notes on square roots; she said she was having trouble. Old copies of Jane Austen books, Edgar Allan Poe, a Shakespeare book, Emerson, Gone with the Wind VHS, Dirty Dancing, Rolling Stone magazine," she paused and looked up, resting her arm on the box. "She can keep it all."

Jethro was scowling at her, holding up a tape distastefully.

"Dolly Parton?" he growled, clearly dismayed.

Jenny smiled softly, a little sheepishly.

"I listened to her the rest of the night every time he touched me," she said quietly, lifting her shoulder as if to say, 'what can I say'? He gave her a dirty look, chucking it gently in the box and looking critically over the other two.

"Why the hell?" he muttered half-heartedly, jerking his thumb at Dolly.

"She doesn't sing about lust and sex. She sings about love and care for people," Jenny answered simply. "I needed that. I didn't need to hear the Rolling Stones wailing about satisfaction."

He looked up at her impassively, like he'd just been sat on his ass by her answer and felt bad for making fun of her. She just gave him a small smirk that didn't totally reach her eyes.

"You approve of the others, music Nazi?" she asked snarkily.

"Elton John," he muttered, nodding a little. "STYX," he shrugged, and leaned over, placing them in the box. Jenny smiled, lifting her shoulder a little as she watched.

"What was their attraction?" Jethro questioned.

"Elton John's gay," Jenny said, arching her brow. "In my eyes, he was harmless to me as an abused female and STYX," she crinkled her nose a little and laughed softly. "Come Sail Away. Enough said."

He smiled a little, looking at her closely. She fell silent comfortably and looked back, her palm pressed against her neck lightly as she supported it, arm resting on the box. She shifted her feet a little, the collar of her oxford a discomfort to her. Her orchid pendant tumbled out and clicked against a button.

She shifted forward as Jethro did. He folded up the flaps of the box and leaned towards at briefly, his side to her for a moment, and then he turned closer. She could smell him he was so close, but to her credit, she didn't back up. She just looked up, her pupils dilating a little, protective of her personal space.

He squeezed the edge of the box she'd offered for Kelly, his knuckles turning white. She read in his eyes that he was trying to express gratitude for it, but he wasn't good with words. And then he was touching her face. His thumb brushed the corner of her mouth and he cupped his palm and fingers softly against her cheek. She swallowed, her eyes narrowing a little, and parted her lips, fumbling for a question.

He kissed her. It took her all of three seconds to ignore her primary protests and go with her instincts; she reached up and rested her hand against his neck and kissed him back. It was a softer, much more careful kiss then the one she had planted on him (or vice versa) in his driveway but there was still a touch of too much intimacy.

She pulled her mouth away, taking a shaky breath.

"Is this what you came over for?" she asked quietly, a sharp edge to her voice. Her lips brushed his inadvertently as she spoke, so she drew back, meeting his eyes. He shook his head in the negative somewhat, moving his thumb on her cheek.

"I can't get you outta my head," he muttered gruffly, shifting his weight. Jenny arched an eyebrow, her natural course of action one that initially protected herself. She could have said the same thing, but this was just a dry spell on both their parts mingling with emotional turmoil and the desire for mutual comfort...wasn't it?

"Which head?" she asked bluntly, flicking her eyes over him. She bit on her lip, suddenly aware she was standing closer than she thought. Her bare feet were touching his shoes, her elbows brushing against his arms; there was barely enough room to slide a hand between them.

He tapped his temple gently and pulled her towards him, pressing his lips to hers more insistently this time. She curled her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, moving closer to his warm body when he slipped an arm around her waist and splayed his hand over her lower back.

Her breath caught in her throat at the slight touch of his hand against her neck and then on the buttons of her starched blouse. She reached for his trousers with her unoccupied hand, hooking her slim fingers in and pulling his hips closer; she paused, uncertain of taking it further.

He broke the kiss for oxygen and she nearly gasped in a much-needed breath. He moved his other hand to the collar of her oxford and fingered the first done-up button, looking at her neutrally. He unfastened it swiftly, moved to the next, and she tightened her fingers in his hair.

She shook her head, smiling somewhat sardonically.

"You don't know what you're getting into, with me," she said quietly, a little bitter. "I'm not normal, Jethro, I was raped, I freak out sometimes…" she trailed off, swallowing. He gave her a brief, hard look, like he didn't care. He lifted one shoulder in a small shrug.

"Jen," he muttered, eyes on her face, fingers at her buttons. "You're beautiful," he said gruffly, and he said it in a way that made it sound completely natural as opposed to corny or cheesy.

If ever she had thought she couldn't be taken in by sweet talk, he changed her mind right then. That was the end of any further conversation; but mutual agreement, it seemed, they simply stopped talking. It was she who led him to bed.

She rarely took men to her bed. Sure, experts claimed women liked making love in their own beds, but not her. Her home was hers, and she didn't share it often. She was careful about men as well, since she'd extricated herself from the mire of prostitution and self-hate she'd been bogged in for years. She had good sex occasionally; she knew she made men nervous in the way she sometimes did freak out a little. She didn't have relationships because of it.

Jethro crawled over top of her on the bed, pushing her now unbuttoned oxford back from her shoulders. She twisted her arms out of it, pushing it to the side, and shucked off his shirt, running her hands over the hard muscles of his chest. His eyes darkened and he leaned forward, kissing her again, more urgently this time. His knees pressed against her hips and she curled a leg around his.

She would bet he hadn't slept with someone since his wife died. Not when he had his daughters to take care of and his job to perform. She doubted he could have brought himself to do it anyway.

She followed his lead, inexplicably intoxicated by the way he touched her. He knew exactly what to touch and, considering he had no guidance from her, gauged perfectly how gentle or intense to make it. She warmed to him fast and kissed him more forcefully, easing back into something she hadn't done in quite a few months now.

He snapped her bra undone easily and flicked it away from them carelessly. She tilted her head back into the pillows as he drew his mouth in a slow line down her jaw, her throat, over her shoulder, and to her breasts, kissing so that heat coiled tight in her lower stomach and she gripped his arms, tugging him closer.

His weight on her felt good when he complied with her tugging, not restrictive or trapping like she sometimes found the men she slept with. Her hands slipped over his rough and warm skin as she explored his body. He slid her skirt down over her hips, leaving her the scrap of silk she claimed as panties, and she leaned up on her elbows, biting her lip.

He came towards her again, planting his arms on either side of her shoulders, his chest close to hers. She wrapped an arm around his neck, pressing her bare skin against his and her lips to his neck. Jethro stroked his hand down her torso and drew his knuckles up the inside of her thigh. He took things nice and slow; easy.

She unbuttoned his trousers and deftly unbuckled and snapped off the brown professional belt he secured them with, dropping it with a dull clink of the buckle to the floor. He rid himself of the jeans—it was easier that way, and she pulled his mouth to hers again, reaching with a sure hand teasingly beneath the cotton waistband of his boxers and gripping him.

He groaned against her lips, and the feel of it reverberated to her stomach, kicking her heart rate up. He trapped her between his knees again, pushing his tongue into her mouth, kissing her harder. She lifted her knee and grasped his shoulder tightly. Jethro ground his hips against hers, cotton boxers against lace; the movement evinced closed eyes but not enough contact.

He slid her panties decisively down her legs, his hands brushing against her explicitly. Jenny arched her back, gasping softly. She worked at his boxers with her knee, lifting her foot to hook into them and push them down.

His touch was insistent now, more sexual and less careful. A whimper met a moan in the back of her throat. His skin was so warm, his muscle so taught beneath her hands. She thought she was okay until she felt all of his weight on her, his lips marking her throat in a subtle way, his hardness pressed against her thigh.

She tensed somewhat, curling her hand against his neck. Swallowing hard, she wound her leg around his and used the brunt of her strength to thrust him over on his back. He looked up at her, caught off guard. She smiled falteringly, her eyes indicating to him that she didn't feel comfortable in the powerless position.

She pressed her lips to his chest, straddling his hips, trailing her mouth back up to his lips and kissing him heatedly. Nothing was said. He growled, low in her ear, when she guided him into her, groaned as he moved inside her; she moaned his name once; maybe twice. It was slow and it was good, unspoken comfort from one person to another.

He made love like he gave a damn. Men usually made a half-heartened attempt at foreplay with a few well-placed pawing maneuvers; Jethro was just damn good.

He reached up and grasped her arm, tight, above the elbow. She met his dark blue eyes, her abdomen tightening. He pulled her under him and she gasped when her back hit the pillows, too much in the throes of her climax to tense up and freak out about his forceful action of control.

He shuddered, his lips hot against her shoulder. He collapsed next to her, his breathing harsh and his heartbeat rapid and erratic. His hand was tangled in her sweaty hair. She shivered, blinking in the light of the room, and turned towards him.

Subliminally, if she thought it was going to be an over-in-a-flash, quickly regretted five-minute-fuck, she realized she was wrong when he met her with a slow, sensuous kiss, almost as needy as if they hadn't _just_ had sex, and she knew they weren't finished with each other tonight.

* * *

It was much too late in the night for her to be standing in the dark of her ensuite bathroom, clad chillingly in but panties and her unbuttoned, now wrinkled oxford. Tousled and mussed hair, smeared make-up, bare feet.

Her eyes were heavy; it was sometime past two a.m. Jethro was asleep in her bed, where she had been moments ago until she woke with a start. She didn't remember the dream; she just knew she'd had one. She slipped away, used the restroom, and now flicked on the faucet, splashing cold water as quietly as possible onto her face.

He had come over for innocent purposes, as far as she knew. She was too tired, tired in a good way, to ask herself what she'd done right now. She couldn't analyze this. She was a woman who went with her gut, followed what felt right and harmonic not only physically but emotionally, and it was like she told Munch…there was something about Jethro. Clearly, he sensed it too.

She patted her face clean with a soft towel and walked out, kicking aside two damp towels she and Jethro had used earlier. Jenny crept across her bedroom silently, her eyes roaming over Jethro's form, sprawled amongst the sheets. He snored softly, and slept on his stomach, an arm under his head.

She pushed her covers back and slipped under them. He shifted, lifting his head and blinking at her groggily. She could barely see his sharp blue eyes in the dark. He looked half-lucid.

"You okay, Jen?" he muttered, slurred.

She nodded slowly, chewing on her lip. He rolled half onto his side, half on his back and reached for her, tugging her towards him sleepily. Jenny curled up to his side, breathing him in, and resting her head next to his shoulder on the pillow. She fell asleep easily, her arm draped over his chest lazily.


	9. The Ninth

_A/N: The courtroom voice-recording scene is modeled after one quite like it in Law&Order SVU. It's connected to the episode 'Closure' (with victim Harper Anderson) involving the rapist (whose name escapes me) who asked all of his victims: "Is this how you like it"? One of my favorite episodes. _

* * *

**Wednesday December 14th 1993. Home of Jennifer Shepard. 8:46 a.m.**

She woke up slow, blinking to awareness instead of jolted by the sharp screech of her alarm clock. Her first thought was that it must be early; else something would have woken her—namely, the alarm clock or Jethro.

She shivered, vaguely aware that she was only half wrapped in blankets, and grasped around for some, curling up against the air conditioning. Jennifer Shepard opened her eyes when her fumbling hand found her bed empty. That explained a hell of a lot.

Jenny stopped moving and leaned up on her elbows a little, looking around. Jethro's clothes were gone; he was gone. It should have hit her right away that he had to get to his daughters to get Kelly ready for trial, but it didn't. What hit her was that she had _slept_ with him. That was unprofessional in the _least_.

She lay back down, hugging a pillow close and rubbing one of her feet against the other. She swallowed hard, wide-awake now, her head aching suddenly. She would have to sit inches from him in court this morning. She was going to be a mess; she always was, even when whoever she was sleeping with stuck around.

She sat up slowly, resting her cheek on her knees. She swiped at her brutally tangled hair, irritated that it was loose and wild when she usually slept in a ponytail to keep it tame. She grit her teeth and her eyes stung. Absently, she glanced over to her bedside table and the alarm clock to see how much time she had to ruminate before it sounded.

The time flashing at her in bright red letters literally did wipe everything from her mind. A rushed, hurried feeling shot through her and she jumped, tangling in the sheets. The alarm hadn't gone off; it was three-quarters-past eight and the trial resumed in fifteen minutes.

"_Fuck_," she swore, dashing to her bathroom.

Dammit, she was going to be late. Late for the first time in three years on the force.

* * *

**Wednesay December 15th 1993. Home of Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Kelly Gibbs, and Elizabeth Gibbs. 7:08 a.m.**

He could hear vague stereo music and muted laughter as he unlocked the front door, balancing the box of things Jenny had given him for Kelly. He had known Abby was already here with the girls when he parked his car next to her hearse.

The plan had been for her to bring them home when Elizabeth woke up, which was usually early, so he could get Kelly ready for court. He hadn't meant to not be there. Leroy Jethro Gibbs shoved open the door with his foot and slipped in, elbowing it shut and hanging his keys on a hook.

"Hey!" he shouted over Abby's (surprisingly) blaring Billy Joel music. He managed to get his coat off without setting down the box and lifted his eyebrows when the music went down to a very soft background sound. Abby Sciuto pranced into the hall. Elizabeth was perched on her back, small arms locked around the Goth's neck and, God only knew why, her teeth trapping one of Abby's pigtails.

He smiled at them a little tiredly. Abby lifted her hand to salute him and Elizabeth growled.

"Liz, biting is against the rules," he reprimanded half-heartedly.

"Woof," Elizabeth answered perkily, shaking Abby's pigtail gently and wriggling as if she were wagging a tail. Abby giggled.

"Oh, we're playing that game," Jethro muttered, moving past Abby and setting the box on the kitchen counter so his hands were free.

"I think it's even more fun now that she has a poor little kitten to fake-terrorize," Abby offered, her smile ear-to-ear. Jethro shook his head. If Elizabeth was harassing Kelly's new cat, they were going to have problems.

"C'mere, rascal," he ordered with a mock stern look, moving around Abby. He reached for Elizabeth and she hunkered down, growling at him playfully. He snatched her up anyway, giving Abby the relief of standing up straight and relaxing.

"Morning, Daddy," Elizabeth said, leaning forward and kissing his cheek. "Abby made wafflies."

Jethro squeezed her gently and ruffled her hair, which had not yet been fixed for the day and was entirely tangled and wild. Elizabeth laughed and swatted his hand away. She stuck her thumb in her mouth.

"They behave?" he asked Abby gruffly. They liked her—everyone liked Abby—but he knew Lizzy was a handful, and Abby's apartment wasn't exactly childproof.

Abby nodded brightly.

"They're perfect, Boss-man, no lies," she complimented.

"Ha," muttered Jethro, giving his three-year-old a good look. Abby grinned.

"Kelly stayed up late, maybe too late, I don't know, but she wasn't tired so I didn't want to be all mean-babysitter and make her sleep. We watched I Love Lucy like four times—she really likes those olds shows, it's cool—"

"Rambling," Jethro interrupted, raising brow. Abby smiled and shrugged. "Don't worry about letting her stay up," he muttered, glancing at Lizzy. She pulled her thumb from her mouth and bared her teeth at him. "Where is Kelly?" he asked.

"She's scampering around getting ready," Abby answered, glancing over her shoulder. "I asked her if she wanted help, but she told me to take care of Lizzy-beth. She didn't want to eat either, so I didn't force her."

"That's fine, Abs," he reassured. "She'll just throw up if you make her anyway." He looked at Elizabeth and she tilted her head at him, mirroring his look. Her eyes crinkled when she smiled and her whole face lit up.

"I love you!"

He grinned appreciatively.

"Love you too, munchkin," he answered, crouching to let her down. She scrambled out of his grip and fell to her hands and knees.

"Awwww," Abby squealed obnoxiously, grinning teasingly at Jethro. He glared at her, while Lizzy pawed at his feet and barked at him. Abby looked gleeful. "I love this kid," she said admiringly, looking down as his daughter continued to pretend she was a puppy.

Jethro looked up from Elizabeth's antics and sobered up a little.

"You mind keeping her occupied while—"

"Uh, no I don't mind. It will give me more time to concoct my plan to steal her and make her mine," Abby interrupted. Jethro rolled his eyes and slipped past, starting down the hallway to Kelly's room.

The doors were all open, the lights were all on—except the hallway light—and the music from the stereo in the living room couldn't be heard back here. He glanced in Kelly's room but didn't find her there. He was continuing towards Lizzy's room just to check and instead caught sight of Kelly in his, standing hesitantly at the bureau.

He put his hands on the doorway and hesitated.

"Kelly," he said gently, not wanting to startle her or make her think she was in trouble.

She looked around quickly, her eyes widening a little when she saw him there. She started to shut the drawer she had open.

"I was using your bathroom because Mom's mirrors are better," she justified softly. Jethro started to reply when something crept around his legs stealthily, weaving in and out, and he jumped, a look of distaste on his face. Kelly's recently purchased kitten looked up at him, purring sneakily.

Kelly smiled, amused. Jethro glared at the cat, already harboring a severe hatred towards it.

"You lookin' for something?" he asked, stepping gingerly away from the cat and coming over to the top drawer of the bureau. She hesitated as he stepped closer.

"Your dog tags," she answered slowly, pulling the drawer back open, "but I couldn't find them, and I found this," she held up a thin silver chain delicately, displaying the small, simple pendant that decorated it; a single six-point star emerald.

Jethro started, taken off guard by the appearance of Shannon's necklace. He came closer and swallowed hard, touching the pendent in Kelly's hand.

"Mommy wore it all the time," Kelly murmured. "I thought they buried her in it."

Jethro shook his head.

"No," he said gruffly. "Nah, she wasn't wearing it that day," he told Kelly, never able to figure out why. He'd given it to Shannon before he left for sniper training, when he'd promised he'd come back and marry her.

Kelly chewed her lip and looked up at him.

"It sort of matches my dress," she said softly. He looked at her, and she was wearing a purple dress with and emerald green sash and trim. It was something he and Mike had managed to buy her one torturous back-to-school shopping day. He didn't even remember why Mike had been dragged along. "Is it okay if I wear it?"

Jethro nodded without a second thought. He twirled his finger, crouching down when she turned her back to him and draping it around her neck.

"Dog tags are in the basement," he said gently. "You want those, too?" He fastened the miniscule lock on the necklace and squeezed Kelly's shoulders. She turned around, nodding a little.

"They make me feel safe," she mumbled. "Is that stupid?"

"It's not stupid," he said hoarsely. "Kelly, I'm really proud of you. A lot of adults are too afraid to go to court," he paused briefly, swallowing a lump in his throat. "Your mom would be proud, honey."

"Okay," Kelly said quietly. "I have to get shoes and finish getting ready," she said seriously.

Jethro nodded and stood up, prepared to leave her alone for a minute; it sounded like that was what she wanted. The cat wove through his legs again and snuggled up to Kelly's legs. She reached down and swept him up, kissing its furry head sweetly.

"I named him at Abby's house," she said, looking at Jethro.

"Oh yeah? What?" Jethro asked, lifting an eyebrow.

Kelly smiled a little.

"Mike Franks," she announced.

Jethro snorted.

"He's going to love that," he remarked skeptically.

Kelly giggled, hugging the little kitten closer.

"He hissed at everything in Abby's house and it reminded her of the way Mr. Franks is always growling about her weirdness, so we named him that," she explained. Jethro smiled warily. This was going to come back and bite him in the ass, he was sure of it.

"Go ahead and finish up," Jethro said, reaffirming his order with a nod. "I'll go get my tags," he added, as Kelly turned around and returned to his bathroom with the kitten still snuggled in her arms.

He went to the basement and rummaged through the drawer. Kelly had his dog tags for luck the night of her recital; she had said they would mean the same as if he were there. Jenny had given them back after her forensics unit had cleared them as non-evidence.

Jethro looped them around his neck to hold for her and went back up the stairs, listening to Abby and Elizabeth talk to each other in the kitchen.

"Braids. Nuh-uh, doggy ears. Nu-_uh_. Braids."

"Make up your mind, little girl."

"Doggy ears!"

Jethro walked in, smirking. Elizabeth bunched her hair into her hands and showed Abby how she wanted it styled.

"Kelly calls' em pigtails!" she announced.

"Pigs only have one tail, doggies have two ears," retorted Abby seriously, gently snatching one of Elizabeth's handfuls of hair from her before she could change her mind. She brushed through it expertly and Elizabeth giggled.

Jethro wondered if it was some sort of inert trait women had: they could fix hair, period.

"You can have Kelly's waffle if you want," Abby offered. "It's cold, but if you heat it….it is my cooking, Gibbs, which I have been told is pretty awesome."

Elizabeth leaned around Abby from where she was sitting on the counter.

"Gibbs," she chirped.

He gave her a stern look. She leaned back, hiding from him.

"Stop squirming," Abby said good-naturedly.

"Daddy?" asked Elizabeth loudly.

"What?" he responded.

"I have to stay with Gramma ta-day?" she asked. She tilted her head and Abby rolled her eyes, attempting to make the other dog ear not crooked.

"She's coming to stay with you," he answered, somewhat reluctantly. He'd much rather let Abby continue watching Elizabeth than allow her to spend the day with Joanne while his mother-in-law made offhand, snide remarks to his daughter about him, but Abby had to work. If he let her take Elizabeth to the NCIS daycare without him, she would freak out.

"No," Elizabeth said decisively. "Nope, no. I don't wanna."

Jethro grit his teeth. It was going to be a fantastic morning of she was going to play the clingy game.

"Hey, now, what's wrong with Gramma?" Abby asked brightly, smoothing down each dog ear and patting Elizabeth's head with a beam. Elizabeth frowned.

"She said we should live with her. Don't wanna."

Jethro looked at her sharply. If Joanne was making noise about that again…he might just kill her. Shannon's mother had always been civil while her daughter was alive, but almost the moment Shannon had died, Joanne had been passive-aggressive and accusatory. He had barely been home from Kuwait a month when she started making noise about custody, and it was maybe a year later that she'd fought him for custody.

Jethro walked up, gently nudging Abby out of the way.

"Don't worry about her, Liz, okay? You're staying with me. I promise," He said gruffly, pulling her head forward and kissing the top of it.

"Aye, aye," responded Elizabeth, kicking her legs. Her bare feet hit the cabinets below her, and Jethro lifted her off, setting her on the floor steadily.

"Go keep Kelly company," he said. Elizabeth saluted him, excited to be given such a job, and scampered off, her smaller dog ears swinging like Abby's did when she got excited in her lab. Abby smiled at him, her eyes crinkling, and he glared back, daring her to make some sappy comment.

She twirled around and pulled the box he'd brought in towards her, rummaging through it absently.

"A mysterious box of assorted trinkets," she remarked, cocking her head. She picked up the Dolly Parton tape Jenny had left on top and giggled. "What's with the goodies, Gibbs?"

"Jenny put it together for Kelly," he muttered. He realized he shouldn't have said it about five seconds after he did, when Abby paused and glanced up at him sharply.

"Were you with her last night?" she asked in a quiet voice, surveying him perceptively. He looked back at her impassively. Abby blinked at him, straightening up a little. "Did you sleep with her?" she asked bluntly, dropping the tape back in the case.

"Abby," he snapped, looking past her sharply to see if the girls were anywhere near. He knew neither one of them were familiar with the slang 'to sleep' with someone, but that didn't mean she could go around asking blasé questions that would pique his daughters' curiosity.

He moved towards her, narrowing his eyes.

She held up her hands, lowering her voice again.

"I'm not condemning you," she said calmly. She smiled a little. "How long's it been since you had sex anyway, like two years? Jesus."

He gave her a look that clearly said she was not amusing him. Abby dropped her hands some, resting one on the cabinet.

"Mike will slap you silly," she remarked, trying to keep a straight face.

"It isn't funny, Abs," he said tersely, more to himself. She frowned a little, her eyes softening, but the front door opened and Jethro was forced to grit his teeth and give her a warning look that stopped the conversation. Joanne Fielding had arrived.

"Jethro?" her firm, judgmental voice echoed through the house.

"In the kitchen," he grunted, giving Abby a bitter look. She smirked.

He leaned against the counter next to Abby and set his jaw, bracing himself to deal with whatever bullshit Joanne pulled this morning. It was just preparation for the stress of Kelly's trial, anyway.

* * *

**Wednesday December 15th 1993. District of Columbia Courthouse. 9:17 a.m.**

Jenny hadn't spent much time dressing up for court this morning; she hadn't had the time. Her attire was more along the lines of her usual detective wear than "court appropriate". She was almost running when she swung open the courthouse doors, flashing her badge agitatedly at the security check so she wouldn't have to go through metal detectors.

The trial had started fifteen minutes ago. She swore under her breath again, beating herself up over this. She hadn't even the time to dwell on what had happened with Jethro or analyze it—or hell, even be angry that he'd hit the road—she was too focused on the fact that she had promised Kelly she'd be there in that courtroom.

She turned a corner, shoving hair from her face in frustration. She hadn't put her hair up either, and it was hardly behaving. She looked up, beginning to cast her eyes around for the courtroom they were in today when she caught sight of Alex standing rigidly by the entrance, her hand on her hip.

She furrowed her brow, but before she could get over to her—

"Jenny!"

Her attention was drawn elsewhere. She looked in the direction of the shout and caught sight of Kelly, jumping up from a bench. She practically ran over, and Jenny bit her lip when the girl hugged her.

"What's going on?" Jenny asked, squeezing Kelly's shoulder when she pulled away.

"The other lawyer delayed the case," Kelly answered. "Miss Cabot let her because she didn't know where you were."

"Delay?" muttered Jenny, she frowned in Alex's direction, but turned her attention quickly back to Kelly. "I'm sorry I was late, Kelly," she said sincerely, looking down at Kelly earnestly. "I overslept, and I tried to get here as fast as I could—"

"It's okay," Kelly interrupted, grabbing Jenny's hand on her shoulder. "I knew you would be here anyway."

Jenny beamed at her. Kelly was so sweet.

"You look pretty," Kelly said, confirming Jenny's last thought. "Your hair looks nice all down like that."

"Thank you," Jenny said softly, taking her arm of Kelly's shoulder gently. She smiled at Kelly's neat dress, necklace, clean black Mary Janes, and wavy hair held back again by a headband. She was a cute girl, and she'd probably be a stunner when she grew up, to the ultimate dismay of Jethro.

Speaking of. Jenny looked up over Kelly's head. Jethro was sitting on the bench Kelly had dashed over from, looking at them watchfully. Munch was off to the side of him with Stabler, and Alex was now talking to Petrovsky by the chambers door.

Kelly turned, following Jenny's gaze, and frowned, stepping closer to Jenny.

"Jenny," she began hesitantly.

"Yes, ma'am?" asked Jenny lightly.

"What if the Rat King doesn't go to jail?" she asked softly.

Jenny looked at Kelly. She crouched down, reaching out and taking her hand gently.

"You're going to tell the court everything that happened, Kelly," she said slowly, "and even if the other lawyer is mean and nasty, you're just going to tell the truth. The jury has also seen evidence from professionals and they have DNA," she explained. She smiled.

"I'm scared he won't go to jail," she said shakily. "He has too, Jenny. Daddy said he would kill him if you didn't put him away, I heard him tell Mike," she swallowed, shaking her head. "I don't want Daddy to have to leave us."

Jenny bit her lip and frowned a little.

"Kelly, your Dad would never do that. He'd never risk losing you and Lizzy, and I think you know that," she said.

Kelly looked at her hesitantly. She looked like she wanted to say something, but bit her lip instead.

"Come here," Jenny said gently, tugging Kelly towards her. She wrapped her in a hug and Kelly gripped her shoulders, squeezing tightly.

"Kelly?" asked Jethro shortly. Jenny looked up. She hadn't noticed him approaching, but she should have known. If there was even and inkling of a tear in Kelly's eye, he appeared out of nowhere. Kelly squirmed back a little.

"I'm not upset," she placated softly. She looked back at Jenny, her small arm still cast over the redhead's shoulder. "Daddy bought me a kitten on Saturday," she said with a small smile. "His name is Mike Franks."

Jenny laughed, tilting her head to the side.

"You just need and old dog named 'Munch' and you can have a couple of old grumpy men as pets," she quipped. Kelly smiled wider at her. The click of heels caught Jenny's attention and she stood, straightening a little, putting her more at Jethro's height. She flicked her eyes at him impassively and looked at Alex.

"We're starting," the blonde prosecutor announced sharply, her cool blue eyes almost ice chips in her irritation. "Spitzer delayed to try and cut the voice identification again, and then to gather something she 'needed' for the trial. Only blessing is it gave you time to show up," she said.

Jenny nodded sharply.

"Let's roll, then," she said. "You ready, Kelly?"

"Yes," Kelly answered quietly. She stepped closer to Jethro. He rested his hand on the back of her hair and a hand on her shoulder comfortingly. Kelly took a deep breath. "Jenny, can I ask something?" she asked hesitantly.

Alex nodded to Jenny and turned, indicating they should go ahead and take places in the courtroom.

"Anything you want," Jenny told Kelly seriously.

"Did you hate the Orchid Thief?"

"Yes," Jenny answered without a second thought, her mouth tightening a little.

"I hate the Rat King," Kelly said softly. "You aren't supposed to hate people."

Jenny looked at Jethro. He met her eyes and she almost winced, her head aching a little from blocking out so many thoughts and emotions about him. He hugged Kelly against his side with one arm and Jenny looked back down at the eight-year-old firmly.

"Kelly, it doesn't matter what the rules are. You let yourself feel whatever you have to, and that's the only way you'll be able to face it."

* * *

Maddie Tyler had been exempt from the court case; Alex read her testimony into evidence before anything else started. Kelly was the prosecution's last witness, and then would follow the cross, Grey's testimony, and jury deliberation. It should be over by the end of today.

Kelly sat in between Jethro and Jenny on the first bench behind Alex, leaning heavily into her father. She watched the goings on with alert, wide blue eyes and kept those same sapphire orbs pointedly away from Logan Grey.

Jethro, on the other hand, was staring straight at him, cold, angry, and almost violent. Logan Grey made it no better; his demeanor was airy, lofty, and wild-eyed, but he kept grinning back at Kelly, and then at Jenny.

"Does the defense have anything to say in regard to the evidence contained in Maddie Tyler's testimony?" Petrovsky asked.

"Without the actual witness here, there's not much I can say but I will remind the jury that this 'solid' testimony is coming from the mouth of an eight-year-old who was interviewed more than twenty-four hour after the incident," Spitzer's comment was ominous and spoken mildly, but Alex threw her a sharp look.

Kelly shifted her head on Jethro's arm and looked at Jenny, her brow furrowing a little. Jenny gave a wry smile and rubbed Kelly's knee good-naturedly. Jethro looked at her swiftly, focusing his eyes from Grey to her.

"Very well," Petrovsky said shortly. "District of Columbia evidence number 45067 pertaining to case 965 is now part of the record. Ms. Cabot, please call your first witness of the day."

Alex stepped away from the table and turned with a friendly smile towards them.

"The prosecution calls Kelly Gibbs to the stand," she said gently.

Kelly sat up and slipped off the bench, her shoulders straight and her head held high. Jethro's fist clenched on the bench where she had been and his eyes followed her stalwartly as she followed Alex's direction to the witness stand.

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?" asked the bailiff sternly, presenting the customary bible to Kelly. Jenny sat straight and rigid; shifting to make sure Kelly could see her easily.

"Yes sir," Kelly answered, looking a little surprised when the microphone in front of her projected her voice much louder than she had spoken. As the bailiff walked away, Alex perched on the edge of her table, crossed her arms, and smiled at Kelly warmly.

"How old are you, Kelly?"

"Eight," Kelly answered.

Alex nodded.

"What are some things you like to do; hobbies, sports?"

"I like school," Kelly said slowly. "Riding horses, ballet, playing with my sister. I like piano, but I'm not very good," she said.

Next to Jenny, Jethro made a disbelieving noise. Jenny smiled softly; apparently he disagreed with that last statement.

"You had a ballet recital recently, Kelly?" asked Alex. Out of the corner of her eye, Jenny saw Spitzer twitch. Alex must have noticed to too; she glanced at the woman sharply. Alex would have to watch asking questions that sounded too leading.

Kelly was nodding.

"My studio performed a little version of _Swan_ _Lake_," she responded.

"Ooh, that must have been fun," Alex remarked.

"It was," Kelly answered, her voice softening a little.

"What part did you play?"

"Your honor," Spitzer said boredly, "as cute as I find this, can we move on to a relevant line of questioning?"

Alex's shoulders stiffened, but Petrovsky's stern look to the blonde was her answer, and Alex was forced to suck it up and move on. Kelly looked over to Spitzer's side of the room. Jenny made a quick movement with her hand that caught Kelly's attention. She shook her head minutely, warning Kelly not to look at Grey.

Kelly looked at Alex apprehensively.

"Kelly," Alex began gently. "Can you tell the jury what happened the night of December third?"

Kelly nodded, taking a deep breath.

"Maddie's parents picked me up to go to the arts center for the recital," she started, glancing at Jenny. Jenny met her eyes encouragingly and smiled a small smile. "They were taking me because Daddy had to stay home with my sister. The recital went really well, and Mr. DiCovaggio was proud of us. Bailey Burnett fell once, but we weren't mad at her," Kelly paused, looking at Alex uncertainly.

"Go on, Kelly," she said helpfully.

"Well, we had a pizza party afterwards, to congratulate everyone. We went to Pepperoni Pete's because they have vegetarian pizzas and three girls are vegetarians. Maddie and I shared a Sunday, and went to play with the boys in the arcade. The delivery guy was supervising, and he said 'hello' to me and Maddie. He smiled at me but it was a weird smile," Kelly paused. "It was scary, like it made me feel funny."

"Is that delivery guy in this room right now?" Alex asked, tilting her head at Kelly.

She received a nod in return.

"Point him out to us, please, Kelly."

Kelly looked at Jenny, swallowing. She lifted her arm and glanced at Grey, extending her finger to him.

"Him," she said quietly.

Alex nodded.

"Let the record show that Kelly Gibbs has identified in the courtroom the defendant, Logan Grey," Alex said sharply. She turned back to Kelly after Petrovsky nodded to confirm the recording. "What happened next, Kelly?"

"Um, Mr. DiCovaggio asked Maddie and me to go get the pieces of our costume, like wings and tiaras, so he could take a group picture. Maddie was playing the game and she was winning, so I just went by myself. I am not supposed to wander around alone, but…" she looked at Jethro fleetingly and flicked her eyes away. "I didn't think it would matter. It was just the parking lot."

"Of course, it seemed harmless," Alex agreed. "Was it harmless, Kelly?"

She shook her head. She looked down at her lap.

"Tell us what happened in the parking lot," Alex coaxed gently.

"I opened Maddie's Dad's car to get the ballet bag," she answered promptly, her voice quiet.

"Your honor, please instruct the witness to speak into the microphone," snapped Spitzer.

Kelly flinched. She looked up at Alex and then Jenny. Jethro shot a poisonous look at the defense attorney.

"Kelly, please speak so the court can hear you," Petrovsky complied, her voice as kind as was possible for such a stern judge to make it.

"Yes ma'am," Kelly said, her voice echoing around the room again. She took another deep breath and rested her hand on the witness stand in front of her, tapping the pads of her fingers silently. "Um, I was—I rummaged through the bag and took out my tiara, and then I was putting the bag over my shoulder when the car door slammed shut."

"Did you slam it?"

"No," Kelly shook her head negatively. "I didn't know who-who did. And I started to turn but someone pushed me on the ground and it scraped my knees bad. I felt dizzy and then the man started dragging me, he grabbed my arm," she stopped, turning her head away from the jury some. "I tried to walk because it was h-hurting my knees when he pulled, b-but it was hard, he was dragging so hard."

"How far did he take you?" Alex asked.

"I…I didn't know, then, I mean—they police found me on M street," she hesitated, as if she'd said something wrong. Alex just nodded.

"I won't interrupt you again, Kelly. Go ahead," she offered nicely.

"He, um, he covered my mouth because I tried to shout for help, and he dragged some more, and I kept f-falling," she stopped for a minute. "He pushed me into a wall, in the alley—the surface was rough and scrapey, and it hurt my knuckles and wrists."

Grey scraped the legs of his chair loudly on the floor and Kelly looked at him, snared into it by the loud sudden noise. She looked at him with wide eyes, her cheeks turning pale, and Jenny straightened, fixing her eyes on the young auburn-haired girl intently.

Jethro stiffened considerably.

"Kelly," Alex said gently.

Jenny managed to catch Kelly's eye again. She gave her a good look, aware it would be a bad idea to nod her head lest the defense claim she was feeding Kelly lines. Kelly swallowed and squeezed the witness stand in front of her.

"He pushed me down on the ground and kicked me when I tried to get away, so I curled up to protect my head. He got down on top of me and trapped me and put his hand over my mouth," she took a shaky breath. "I bit him, and he hit me hard, on my cheek. I couldn't scream anymore, but I still…I kicked him," she stopped, her words halting.

Jenny watched Kelly glance back down, then at the jury, and at Alex, her mouth shaking. She looked at Jenny and Jenny smile faintly, reaching up to touch her orchid necklace casually. She squeezed it, meeting Kelly's eyes.

"What did he do, Kelly?" Alex asked.

"He jerked my dress up," she answered very quietly. Her mouth trembled as she looked at Jenny, her eyes glowing brighter with tears. "And he raped me," she mumbled finally.

"Kelly, how did you know it was the defendant when we had him in the line-up?"

"I," she said falteringly. "I remembered—remembered his voice," her words stopped again and she bowed her head a little, biting her lip.

Jenny held her breath. Kelly was trying so hard not to cry.

* * *

Leroy Jethro Gibbs could hardly stand to watch this. He stared at Kelly, his jaw muscles pulled tight to keep his face blank and expressionless, watching her tell the story again. It didn't get any easier the third time; it sure as hell never would.

He never should have let this happen to her. He should have been at her recital, clingy-sick Elizabeth or no, and he should have been the one watching her at the after party. He hated to think about it. There was a time when he thought nothing could plague him worse than what he'd see in Desert Storm, and then Shannon's death had surpassed those horrors but this…this cut deeper, it hurt more.

Kelly was so young. She was innocent and kind and brilliant. He didn't know another kid who read so much or acted as mature as Kelly. He didn't want that to be taken away from her, and he felt like it was, he felt like right here in this courtroom, he was watching his daughter's hope be yanked from her and her innocence stripped away and her happiness dissolved.

It wasn't fair. He was terrified now something would happen to Lizzie, too. He was terrified he would lose one of them or both of them. He wanted to storm across this goddamn courtroom, fuck the law, and torture that son of a bitch in the defendant's chair until his agony was unparalleled.

He should have shot him when he had the chance. He shouldn't have let Jenny's practical hand and placating words stop him. Kelly wouldn't have to relive this in front of these strangers if he had just shot the bastard.

Jenny. Jenny was a whole different can of worms. It made something in him throb dully when he saw the way Kelly related to her, because he knew he'd never understand Kelly's nightmare the way Jenny would. He had made her tell her story because he wanted to hear it. He wanted to know why the hell he should entrust Kelly's well-being to her, even if she was so willing and eager to help.

He was sorry he had asked her to tell him; he was sorry he had made her cry in his basement, and he was more than sorry he'd pulled the stunt he pulled at her house last night. Slipping out before she woke up was a base act of near cruelty. He didn't know what had possessed him to sleep with her. Maybe he'd been counting on her to shove him away.

He met Kelly's eyes and forced a smile for her, while Alex Cabot addressed the jury and then the bench sharply. He braced himself as the defense attorney stood up, unable to fathom how he would restrain himself if she caused one tear on Kelly's face.

* * *

"I only have a few questions, Kelly," Spitzer said in a sickly sweet voice. She was holding a medium sized, black object in her hands. Jenny narrowed her eyes at it. Alex sat alert, ready to intervene if Spitzer even considered taking it too far.

"You told the detectives and Ms. Cabot that you were in full understanding of what happened to you, correct?"

"Yes ma'am," Kelly answered shakily. She was still reeling a little from her recount of the story, and Jenny wished Petrovsky would have allowed for the recess Alex requested. Jethro was stiff as a board next to her, and she had the eerie feeling he was about to snap and simply kill Grey.

She shoved Jethro from her mind. That was a fuck-up (in the literal sense) to be dealt with later.

She was here for Kelly.

"Then, Kelly, if you understand exactly what happened to you, please clarify for the jury the meaning of rape."

Kelly blinked at her, hesitating.

"Forced sex," she answered finally, looking at Jenny. It was something along the lines of what Jenny had talked to her about. Spitzer tilted her head.

"Alright, so it seems you understand what sex is. Kelly, using the technical terms if you do in fact know them, tell the jury what my client allegedly did to you."

"Objection: argumentative," growled Alex, perturbed by Spitzer's dig at Kelly's intelligence.

"Sustained."

"I'll rephrase: using the correct medical terminology, can you _please_ tell the court what my client allegedly did to you?"

Kelly flushed slightly. She flicked her eyes away and at Jenny. Then she looked straight at Spitzer and surprised the courtroom.

"Do you know what sex and rape are, ma'am?" she asked.

Spitzer looked caught off guard.

"I do, Kelly," she said sharply. "I am the one asking the questions, remember," she reminded shortly.

"If you know what they are, why do you need me to tell you?" Kelly asked softly.

Jenny grinned. She hoped Kelly saw it, too. Petrovsky would give Kelly more leeway on the sass than she would an adult or even a teenage witness, and Jenny was damn proud she had managed to fight back a little. It made her look stronger.

Spitzer stared at Kelly for a moment.

"Do you know the proper terminology, Kelly?" she asked tersely.

"Your honor," began Alex, but Petrovsky held up her hand before she could go on.

"I won't watch you argue with a child, Ms. Spitzer," she said with a shrug, "move on, and allow the jury to converse about this one."

Spitzer grit her teeth and nodded.

"Kelly. You claimed you identified the voice of my client clearly, even though it was two days after the alleged rape happened, is that correct?"

"Yes," Kelly answered, her brow furrowing. She looked at Spitzer and gripped the witness stand again, her knuckles turning white. She looked upset.

"How can you be sure it was my client? You hear hundreds of voices every day," Spitzer said skeptically.

"I wouldn't forget," Kelly said defensively.

"You wouldn't?"

"No!" Kelly protested indignantly. "Why do you think I wouldn't remember? He said things to me…" she broke off, her voice shaking again. "I remembered," she said, her voice watery.

"I have something for you do listen to, Kelly," Spitzer said coldly, moving forward. "Listen carefully."

She held up the object that had been in her hands. It proved to be a tape recorder. Jenny fluttered her eyes briefly. She'd seen this tactic before.

* * *

Kelly was handling this very well. She looked clean and nice, she looked brave, and she was telling the same story Jenny had first heard, no changed details. She was honest, she was trying very hard to hold it together, and Jenny was having a hard time watching.

She was having a hard time sitting next to Jethro while he suffered, watching this, and she dreaded having to sit through Grey's testimony. She dreaded what Jethro would have to listen to if he stayed.

When she wasn't keeping her eyes on Kelly, she was watching Grey closely. He kept failing to hide a sick, fleeting smile as he watched Kelly talk. His leg was twitching up and down, as if he were tapping his foot. Jenny ran over the testimony the jury had heard: Huang's, the officer's, Dr. Gelfand's, a few psychiatric professionals, forensics specialist to give evidence, petitions made by Spitzer, and Jenny's own testimony.

She had that feeling in her gut. She knew they were going to convict. Regardless, trials were hard, and they kicked the proverbial ass of everyone involved. She clenched her jaw as Spitzer readied her ominous tape recorder. She didn't want Kelly to get thrown by any voice confusion the defense tried to throw at her.

She looked down next to her briefly at Jethro's firmly clenched, white-knuckled hand on the hard bench beside her. She was in hot water when it came to him. She regretted what had happened; she didn't know why the fuck she had let it.

Forgetting that for the sake of a soothing touch, she reached over and covered his hand with hers, squeezing firmly. Reassuring. She had been in Kelly's position before; she knew Kelly had the ability to fight through it and come out the victor.

* * *

Alex watched with cold eyes as Spitzer pressed play on the tape.

"You'll like it if you shut-up, sweet thing."

The words echoed around the room and Kelly visibly flinched. Alex heard Jenny suck in her breath angrily. Alex furrowed her brow just slightly. Kelly looked confused and then scared, and seemed to curl up a little, looking past Alex's shoulder, to Jenny no doubt; or her father.

"Can you tell me whose voice that was, Kelly?" Spitzer asked.

"Um," she said softly. "Mr. DiCovaggio," she answered, confused and caught off guard. Her ballet teacher; she recognized his voice, even if it had sounded different. Spitzer looked at her silently, pushed a button, pushed another, and looked at Kelly again.

"You know voices better than some adults," Spitzer said mildly. Alex smirked. This tactic had been tried before and had ruined adults who couldn't even identify co-workers, who they spoke with every day. "How about his one, Kelly," continued Spitzer, jamming her finger to the play button again.

"You'll like it if you shut-up, sweet thing."

It echoed around the courtroom again and Alex jerked forward slightly when Kelly's eyes crinkled and she shook slightly, tears seeping out of the corner of her eyes. She chewed on her lip, looked up, and then at Alex uncertainly.

"It…it sounded like, the other detective, and" she stammered shakily, "the one who talked to Daddy before— Mr. Elliot?" she said, scrounging up the name.

Alex looked sharply at Spitzer. Spitzer looked as if she'd just swallowed a lemon.

"Is that the correct identification, Ms. Spitzer?" Petrovsky asked shortly, and a little mildly, looking at Kelly with impressed interest.

Sharply, the defense nodded her head.

"May I ask how you indentify voices so well, Kelly?" Petrovsky asked curiously, interrupting.

Kelly closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and sniffled.

"I like to hear people talk, so I remember. It's unique," she said hoarsely.

Alex smiled a little sadly.

Spitzer stepped closer.

"One more," she almost growled at Kelly. She hit play again.

"You'll like it if you shut-up, sweet thing," that, Alex recognized as Grey's voice when he had the retainer in, as Maddie Tyler had identified him. Kelly didn't remember; it was clear on her face. She hadn't been one of the people making fun of Grey for his manner of talking, no doubt.

"Kelly?" asked Spitzer, barely giving her time to think.

Kelly jumped at the sharp tone.

"I," she said. "I…I don't know," she admitted. A few more tears fell down her face.

"You don't know," repeated Spitzer mildly, giving a pointed look to the jury.

Alex jerked her briefcase towards her and began rifling through it. Spitzer ploughed on, hanging on to Kelly's brief moment of confusion and defeat.

"You stated in your original testimony that your rapist had long hair," Spitzer growled. "Yes, Kelly?"

"Yes," Kelly said tearfully.

"Mr. Grey doesn't have long hair, Kelly."

"He," Kelly stammered. She was forced to look at Grey and she immediately looked away. "It's long," she said.

"No, it's merely a casual style of the decade," Spitzer answered.

"It's long," Kelly insisted, her voice cracking again. "It's long, it's long to me, because Daddy's is cut like a marine and so is Maddie's dad—"

"Kelly, it seems to me you are having trouble consistently identifying my client as your rapist. You didn't recognize his voice—"

"That wasn't him!" cried Kelly desperately, her eyes going wide as she looked around as if she wanted help. "He didn't talk to _me_ with a lisp, he—"

"Your honor," Alex said sharply. "I think Ms. Spitzer has made enough attacks on my witness," she barked coldly.

Petrovsky looked at Spitzer sharply. Spitzer, recognizing defeat, and probably the fact that she was barking up the wrong tree trying to get Kelly to make a big misstep, backed down. Alex was up in an instant.

"Who is this, Kelly?" she asked, clicking the sleek, black recording device with all of her case information on it.

"You'll like it if you shut-up sweet thing."

"That's him," Kelly whimpered. "That's the Rat King—I, I mean, him. He raped me," she stumbled through the words and pointed at Grey, biting her lip hard.

Alex turned to the jury. She allowed the tape to keep playing. Kelly's session of initial identification played clearly for the jury to hear, with Jethro yelling, Jenny placating, and Kelly's original, quick as a flash ID.

When it was done, Alex punched the button for stop, whirled to Petrovsky at the bench and said with a touch of triumph in her voice:

"Request a recess."

Petrovsky banged a gavel and granted it.

* * *

Kelly was quiet and solemn as she let Alex lead her out of the courtroom, shielding her from milling people and the wandering eyes of Grey or his counsel.

"Where's my dad?" Kelly asked Alex softly, holding back tears.

Alex looked around.

Kelly moved away from her. She saw the defense attorney coming out of the courtroom, and then she caught sight of Grey, and she backed away. He smiled at her, and Spitzer's head was turned the other way, and Grey moved towards her. He said her name. Kelly closed her eyes.

"DADDY!" she screamed, drawin the attention of quite a few people.

"Get him away from her!" Alex snarled, realizing what was going on. Grey stepped closer to Kelly and she seemed to freeze. She winced and shook her head. A security guard stumbled towards Grey but not before Jethro grabbed him violently from behind and shoved him up against the nearest wall with the full force of marine combat strength. The breath could be heard flying out of Grey, and Jethro dug his hand into the sensitive joints of the shoulder on Grey, eliciting a sharp yell.

"You don't get near my daughter, you goddamn son of a bitch," he snarled in a dangerously low voice. "So help me God, I will break your _neck_." A guard quickly tried to intervene before Jethro lost control and the violence esscalated. Kelly burst into tears and she turned and ran down the lobby hall, desperate to get away from the people.

"Kelly!" Jethro called her name sharply, panicked that she'd run off like that where he might not be able to see her. She stopped, her back to him, halfway down the lobby, and he marched up to her, swallowing hard. It was more deserted here, but even if it hadn't been, he didn't care.

He swept her up and pressed her head to his shoulder, touching his forehead to hers and squeezing his eyes closed. Kelly was shaking. She cried into his shoulder, holding onto his shirt with her hands. He tightened all of his muscles so his shoulders wouldn't betray him and hid his eyes in her hair, trying to ignore the persistent, wet sting in them.

"It's okay, honey," he soothed gruffly, his voice going up thickly. "You're safe. I've got you, Kel," he tried to comfort her.

He swore in his head, under his breath. He hadn't even let her see him cry at Shannon's funeral, and here he stood at a goddamn courthouse full of people practically crying all over her. He didn't want her to notice. He knew she was more perceptive than that.

Kelly hugged him tightly, her face hidden in his shoulder.

"I feel sick," she whimpered. "I didn't want all those people to see me cry. Daddy, the Rat King, he looked at me, the whole time, he _stared_. He tried to talk to me. I want him to go away forever."

"Kelly," he mumbled, tightening his grip. She weighed next to nothing, but she was still eight-years-old and he didn't typically pick her up. "You did good, Kelly, you did damn good. He won't ever touch you again. I won't let him."

She sniffled heavily, snuggling closer as if it would bring her more safety. He stroked her hair, rubbing her shoulder gently. After a few more minutes of the breakdown he thought she was justified in giving into, she tugged at his arm, asking him to let her down.

He complied, but lowered himself a little, and she stayed close, swiping at her eyes. She grasped his dog tags and Shannon's necklace in one hand and he pressed his hand to her cheek paternally. Kelly shifted her feet. She rubbed her eyes again, hiding her face behind her hands, and her lips trembled.

She looked around, and then stepped closer to Jethro, her gaze fixed over his shoulder.

"Jenny," she called softly. Jethro set his jaw when she said it. God, everything was such a mess. Such a fucking mess. He heard soft footsteps and Jenny stopped off to his side, folding her arms.

"That was awesome, Kelly," Jenny said, if a little thickly. "Spitzer was a real monster to you, but you did really well."

"I cried," Kelly said miserably.

Jenny shrugged.

"You told your story," she said firmly. "You told the truth, and you did it very well. When I was in your position, I couldn't get the words out. I couldn't cry, either, I just barely answered," she offered sincerely.

Kelly came towards Jenny a little. She looked at the orchid necklace on Jenny's throat.

"I thought about what you said," she said quietly. "When you told me you didn't have anyone to be brave for you, and I did. So when I got scared in front of all of them, I knew I had Daddy and Lizzie to be brave for me and help me, so I stayed brave for you."

Jenny's heart slammed against her ribcage. She felt like bursting into tears. She smiled at Kelly, a small smile, because she was afraid to say or do much. Kelly was so sweet. There wasn't a more undeserving girl in the world.

"That means a lot to me, Kelly," Jenny said nicely, reaching out and giving Kelly a hug.

Kelly wrapped her arms around Jenny's waist, her voice shaking again. She took a deep breath and tears fell down her face again. Jenny looked at Jethro and he looked sharply away. He dropped his forehead into his palm, straightening and turning a shoulder to her gruffly. He didn't want her to see him upset; she understood.

"Thank you for being there for me to talk to you," Kelly said tearfully. "It feels like everything is all broken and bad and hurtful, but when I talk to you, I know you got through it so I can—"

"Kelly," Jenny said with a small laugh. "You're going to make me cry."

Kelly gave a small, unexpected laugh.

"It's okay to cry, remember?" she said. Jenny smiled through her own swimming tears. She released her grip on Kelly a little and Kelly stepped back. She looked around at the people, and up at her dad. She looked at Jenny. Jenny was looking at Jethro impassively. He seemed to sense it, and turned around.

"When do we go back in, Jenny?" Kelly asked reluctantly, her voice still soft.

Jethro made a negative noise in his throat, turning around.

"We can go home, Kelly," he said gruffly. "You don't have to talk anymore. You don't have to watch him talk."

Kelly looked at him and frowned a little.

"After he talks, they say if he's guilty or not, right?" she asked.

"Yes," Jenny answered cautiously.

"Daddy I want to stay," Kelly said. "I want to see what happens."

"It isn't like _Law and Order_, Kelly," he said a little roughly, looking displeased. Jenny got the impression he didn't like Kelly watching that show anyway. She chewed on her lip and looked at him earnestly.

"I know. But I want to hear him talk. I want to know what he says," she paused and took a deep breath. "I don't feel so scared anymore," she said slowly, glancing at Jenny with furrowed brows. "I feel like I can put him in jail."

"It's powerful isn't it?" asked Jenny.

Kelly smiled a little.

"It's better than fear," she said, and Jenny remembered how she had always said she hated being afraid more than anything. Jenny smiled. She checked her watch and looked at Jethro.

"We aren't going to reconvene for an hour and a half," she said. "You could go get lunch in the city. There are a few nice cafes around," she suggested. She glanced over and saw Munch eyeing her as if he wanted a word.

Alex was having a heated argument with Spitzer; the bailiff had taken Logan Grey away until the trial resumed.

"Daddy?" Kelly asked hesitantly.

He looked at her helplessly.

"You sure you want to stay, Kel?" he asked warily, probably unwilling to stay himself. Jenny could imagine he was struggling somewhere between disgust, hatred, despair, and discomfort. She threw in the last one because she knew he wasn't enjoying the spectre of her right now any more than she liked thinking about what had gone down in her bed last night. Figuratively and literally.

She nodded much more certainly this time.

"You said good people are supposed to stand up to bullies," she said offhandedly. Jethro almost told her it was different; Grey wasn't a bully, he was a sadistic predator. But he realized she was using the things he'd told her to help herself, and he kept mum. It made him feel like a better father to know she listened.

"Lunch is your pick, then," he said, nodding.

"What's the best place, Jenny?"

"Mmmm," Jenny thought carefully. "Capital Q," she decided. "It's a nice atmosphere—southern and Texas sorta thing," she said. Kelly nodded.

"I think you should come too," she said, only slightly hesitant. "I want you to," she added.

Jenny smiled somewhat uncomfortably.

"I'll hang back on this one, Kelly," she said, "let you and your Dad spend some time together."

"Jenny, I live with him," Kelly informed the redhead promptly. "I really do want you to come."

Jenny started to shake her head.

"Ah, Jen," muttered Jethro airily. He shrugged his shoulders when she gave him an odd look. "You won't do any harm," he said pointedly, implying without words that he was fine with her butting in.

She smiled faintly. She nodded. Kelly beamed. She pushed her hair away from her shoulders and started to open her mouth Alex's clicking stilettos, followed by her voice, interrupted.

"Kelly," she began with a nice smile. "Can I steal you for a minute? Judge Petrovsky wants to meet you. She's not as scary as she looks," Alex added as an afterthought.

Kelly looked past Alex to the judge, who was speaking now to Elliot. Munch still stood off to the side, glaring at Jenny pointedly. She met his eye and then looked away. Damn Munch was probably staring at her reading exactly what had happened last night all over her face.

Kelly nodded.

Alex waited for Kelly to fall into step by her and rested a hand on her shoulders, leading her to Petrovsky and striking up a conversation.

Jenny watched for a moment, and then turned to Jethro, her arms folded across her chest. He looked at her neutrally, still pale from wrestling with his emotions and dealing with the stress of Kelly's trial.

He gave her a short, hard look.

"I shouldn't have left," he said gruffly, admitting it in a way that was just raw and honest. "I had to get home to the girls."

"We don't have to talk about it now," Jenny said with a shrug. She looked at him intently for a minute and then slowly parted her lips and wet them. "Am I correct in assuming we both agree last night should not have happened?"

His eyes answered her straightforwardly: yes. She nodded curtly.

"It was unprofessional on my part. Hell, it may have been unethical and morally reprehensible. We can't change the fact that we slept together—whether because we both needed something like that on an emotional level or we're just physically attracted to each other," she paused fairly. "I care about Kelly. I don't want my stupid mistake to hurt her."

He considered her briefly.

"It wasn't just your mistake," he answered tersely.

She offered him a small, reconciliatory smile. She could push this from her mind easily, because she didn't want to analyze what it meant, and more than that she didn't want to jeopardize her connection with Kelly. She wouldn't allow her foolish misstep with Jethro to hurt that little girl. It didn't matter that last night was probably the best sex she'd ever had; she had to ignore that on some level, she and Jethro both knew in a different world, under different circumstances, they would have been fiercely attracted to each other. They were now, beneath it all.

Last night, though, had been about two people who stumbled into a bog of emotional turmoil and had needed someone who understood to yank them out. That's what the found in each other in the dark. The sun was up now, they had jobs to do and little girls' lives to fix, and whatever spark was there had to be stomped out.

It wasn't even _half_ the right timing.

Jethro, in an unexpected gentlemanly gesture of amiability, leaned over and brushed a swift, chaste kiss to her cheek. Jenny smiled, quirking her eyebrow in some amusement She wanted to hold onto this mood, and trap Kelly's current positivity inside her, to have it to hold when they were shut in the courtroom again

* * *

**Wednesday December 15th 1993. District of Columbia Courthouse. 2:30 p.m.**

On a personal, protective level, Jenny wasn't sure Kelly should stay to listen to Grey's testimony. Having been there when he had his session with Dr. Huang, Jenny knew the general statements Grey was going to make; they were sickening, scary, and might confuse Kelly. They would without doubt anger Jethro beyond belief.

She understood why Kelly wanted to see it. If her case would have had any promise back in the day, she would have been the first person begging to watch Rick Moore be thrown in jail by a vindictive jury. She hadn't had a chance though.

Jenny sure as hell didn't want to throw Kelly back in the courtroom without her, after she had promised to be there through the entire trial, but Munch had snatched her to the side when she returned from lunch, looking pretty damn stern.

"What the hell is going on between you and that girl's father, Jen?" he growled at her in a very low voice. The courtroom doors had been shut five or so minutes ago, and at this moment, Grey was probably being sworn in.

Jenny gave Munch a blank, guarded look.

"What's it to you, John?"

"Messy, that's what," he snapped. "And stupid."

"Why are you so keen that I'm having some illicit affair with him?" she growled offensively, lowering her own voice.

"Don't think I missed that little kiss-and-make-up act," retorted Munch bluntly. "I know you very well, Jen, you can't deny that; you don't just spill your guts about your abuse to anyone. You could jeopardize this case."

"I am not jeopardizing anything, John," she said coldly. "Nothing would make me take Kelly's chance at justice away from her, and you damn well know it. That being said, what I do off the job is far from your concern."

"Meaning '_who'_ you do, huh?" he asked sharply.

She glanced over her shoulder and stepped closer.

"I know you're looking out for me, John," she hissed quietly. "I don't need you to anymore. Its endearing, but you're crossing the line," she told him finally.

"It isn't just an ethical concern, Shepard," he threw back at her. "I don't want you to tangle yourself up with _another_ man who's gonna run the other way when he can't handle your scars! Him, too—what the devil is his problem, involving himself with his daughter's lead detective?"

Jenny swallowed, looking down at her shoes for a moment. He groaned softly. She shook her head, sensing he was close to apologizing for referencing her less than good romantic experiences.

"It was a mistake," she said shortly.

"Watch your step," Munch growled.

"Yeah," she said a little sharply. "You made your point, John."

"Je—"

He stopped, tilting his head in a double take as he caught sight of a young man wandering aimlessly around the courtroom, glancing at the case numbers and notices outside of certain chambers.

"You lost, son?" Munch asked scarily.

Jenny rolled her eyes.

The guy looked up, startled at being spoken to, and looked back at the white board outside of Petrovsky's courtroom, moseying over. He took one hand from his pocket and ran it back through carefully styled hair, his green eyes uncertain.

Jenny raised her eyebrows at him.

"Do you speak?" she prodded, a little sarcastically.

He looked her over, seeming to just catch notice of her. It was a look she got often from men, and Munch bristled next to her when he saw it. The guy patted his leg suddenly, fumbling for something, and pulled a black covered badge out of his trousers, flicking it open with his thumb.

"Anthony DiNozzo, NCIS," he introduced. "Er, the Grey Trial?" he asked.

Jenny eyed his badge and then jerked her head.

"You had it right," she said mildly. "Petrovsky just resumed session. Grey's on the stand now."

"Oh," Anthony DiNozzo said. "Uh, do you know if Kelly Gibbs already testified?"

"Before lunch," Munch said.

"She wanted to stay for Grey's allocution," Jenny said helpful, tilting her head slightly. "You wouldn't be one of Jethro's colleagues?" she asked knowingly.

"Yeah, I work with Gibbs," Anthony DiNozzo answered. "Sciuto couldn't get away from work; she sent me instead. Surprise for Kelly," he hesitated and then jerked his thumb at the door. "Can I go in or somethin'?"

Jenny shot Munch a glare.

"Are you done preaching the good word?" she asked shortly.

He grinned at her and tipped his ever-present fedora.

"I'll be at the station house, going over those Knight files again," he said.

"The kid's story and his mother's are in my top drawer," Jenny answered finally, turning to Anthony DiNozzo as she walked away.

"DiNozzo, was it? Detective Jenny Shepard," she introduced, shaking his hand firmly. He smiled a little and she let go, beckoning as she went over towards the doors. She rested her hand on one before opening it and gave him a baleful look.

"Kelly likes you?" Jenny asked interestedly.

"Lady, I'm the reason she's seen every movie to come out in the past five months," he responded incredulously. He titled his head, and frowned. "Well, that's kid appropriate, I mean."

Jenny smiled slightly, and nodded.

"You got here in time for the grand finale," she said, sobering up a little, just to warn him. "It's hard to hear."

He nodded. Jenny quietly opened the courtroom door and the both of them slipped in without drawing too much attention to their tardiness.

Logan Grey's testimony was in full swing.

* * *

Kelly looked over at her with a small smile as Jenny slipped into the saved seat next to her. She returned an encouraging smile and a wink.

"Tony!" Kelly whispered, her smile widening, when she saw DiNozzo creeping into the wooden pew behind her. He grinned lopsidedly and leaned forward on his hands, pulling her hair playfully, sitting as far away from Jethro as he could manage. She giggled softly.

He pointed to her and then to himself.

"Ice cream," he mouthed. "When this is over."

Kelly nodded. Jenny noticed Jethro glaring viciously at Tony and smiled, shaking her head slightly and turning back to the show at the forefront of the courtroom.

"Hurting Kelly wasn't your intention, then, Logan?"

"I didn't hurt her," was the answer Grey had just given.

Immediately, the brief smile DiNozzo's antics had brought to Jenny's face faded. She stiffened, wondering when this would get ugly. Spitzer, at Grey's answer, gave a pointed look to the jury.

"The police records and medical records say you did hurt Kelly, Logan," Spitzer said calmly. Kelly had turned around, alerted to a change no doubt by Jethro's sharp movement forward. His fist was clenched on his knee; it had been when Jenny sat down. "Why do you think that is?"

"They're wrong," he answered simply with a shrug. "I didn't hurt her, they just don't understand what happened."

"What did happen, Logan," asked Spitzer kindly. "What really happened, in your eyes, that is?" Spitzer was laying the framework for her psyche exhibition. Grey stared coldly at her, and flicked his eyes around, falling back into his routine of speaking the crazy speak.

"The other kids at the little ballet party where making fun of the way I spoke, of my lisp," he said in annoyance. "Even the little faggot boys, who shouldn't make fun of anyone when they're in ballet—"

"Objection," snapped Alex.

"Mr. Grey, please keep your opinions to yourself and stick to relevant recount of details," Petrovsky said shortly.

He made a face and folded his arms like a child, continuing:

"She didn't. She was nice and laughed a lot, and she smiled at me when I saw her in the arcade. She was the prettiest one there, and she smiled and didn't make fun of me. She liked me."

"Did Kelly tell you she liked you?"

"It didn't matter. I knew. I knew because she smiled, and her eyes were pretty and bright, and they wanted me."

Kelly shook her head suddenly. She reached over and took Jenny's arm gently, looking at her with knit eyebrows.

"He's lying," she said quietly, shaking her head. Jenny rested her hand over Kelly's and squeezed slightly, nodding her head a little. She pursed her lips to indicate quiet. Alex watched the whole thing tensely. Jethro looked over at Kelly protectively. Kelly turned and watched Logan, sitting back further against the seat.

"Logan, you took Kelly's friendly smile as an indication that she wanted you?"

"Of course," he answered placidly. He grinned. Jenny grit her teeth.

"Sexually?" prompted Spitzer.

"Yes," he answered sincerely. "She was pretty, like I said. And nice. I knew when she went outside she wanted me to follow; she said 'excuse me' when she walked passed, and smiled again. It was a secret rendezvous."

"Why a secret? If Kelly liked you, why wouldn't she admit it openly?"

Jenny set her jaw. To some, it may appear Spitzer was discrediting Grey's testimony, but it was really a tactic to showcase his 'psychosis' to the jury; it set up a framework for him to answer in absurd ways and make himself look crazy.

Grey shrugged.

"People wouldn't understand."

"They wouldn't? You don't think Kelly wasn't interested in you at all, and that's why she didn't say anything?"

"No! She was! I could tell! And I followed her, and she was going to put her crown on for me."

Kelly gripped Jenny's arm tightly, looking at Jenny again with puckered lips. Jenny gave the little girl a sympathetic look and fastened her eyes back on Grey. Alex's fingers were clenched around a pen she held.

"Alright, Logan," Spitzer said, placating calmly. "So you took Kelly to the alley on M street and had intercourse with her," she said mildly.

Alex twitched, glancing at the judge, but said nothing. Out of her peripheral vision, Jenny saw DiNozzo straighten his head and glare forward, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed harshly.

"Yes."

"While you were having sex with Kelly-"

"Objection," snarled Alex this time.

"On what grounds?" Spitzer fired back immediately.

"Your honor, regardless of the defendant's mentality during the crime, or what he feels happened, according to the law of the District of Columbia, his engagement in sex with a child at his age is considered rape—I think it would be appropriate if the defense addressed it as such," she snapped coldly.

"I didn't rape her!" Grey said suddenly, glaring at the judge.

"Be quiet, Mr. Grey," Petrovsky snapped. She gave Alex a considerate look, and then narrowed her beady eyes at Spitzer over her glasses. "I'm inclined to agree. There is a monumental difference between sexual intercourse and rape, Ms. Spitzer—"

"Your honor, I simply don't want my client to get distressed by the language I use—"

"That is something _he_ will deal with," Petrovsky interrupted sharply. "You will refer to the crime as 'rape' while in my courtroom."

Spitzer nodded curtly.

She resumed after a short moment, letting the atmosphere settle.

"Logan, while you were raping Kelly, did it occur to you that what you were doing was wrong?"

"I said I didn't rape anyone!" he protested with a growl. "I already said that! Kelly wanted it, she smiled at me, it meant she was okay with it! We made love! It wasn't wrong!"

Jethro jerked forward suddenly. He put his hand on his leg and looked over at Jenny sharply. He shook his head minutely, as if to say he couldn't listen to it. Jenny swallowed, turning her head forward.

Kelly leaned over and Jenny bent her head down, listening.

"What does that mean?" she asked, her voice very quiet. "Make love?"

Jenny squeezed her hand and merely shook her head.

"He's making it up," was all she said, for lack of anything better to stay at the moment. She focused her eyes forward again. Kelly leaned against, her following her eyes. She curved her shoulders in slightly and sank down some.

"But Logan, Kelly told you to stop. She was hurting; she says she screamed at you to stop. What did that mean to you?" Spitzer asked curiously.

"They—I mean, it was confusing, because she was acting scared, but it's always like that at first for girls, it hurts them, but they like it. I had to hit her to make her stop yelling, but I wasn't trying to hurt her, I knew it'd be okay in a minute…" he trailed off, glaring at his attorney. "You don't understand either," he growled at her.

"Logan, I am trying to help let the court know what you were thinking," she said.

"Ask her," Grey suddenly thrust his hand out at Kelly. "Ask her, she lied up here, but she liked it, really. It had to be a secret, but—"

"Control your client," Petrovsky warned.

DiNozzo patted Kelly's shoulder, distracting her. She shifted, angling her body away from Grey and towards Jenny, her head turned towards Tony.

"Look at me, Kelly," Grey pleaded. "You wanted to."

Kelly shook her head, closing her eyes tightly. Her mouth trembled and Jenny reached across her, grabbing Jethro's arm sharply. He looked up from staring into his lap irately and saw Kelly.

"Don't listen, baby," he said softly, taking her hand away from Jenny and drawing her attention to him. "Look at me." She did, and Jenny could focus back on what was happening. Grey had quieted, but he was looking at Kelly sharply, and the jury was looking around, some of them with odd looks, some of them disgustedly.

Alex was standing, Spitzer had a small half smile on her face, and in the moment Jenny was distracted trying to comfort Kelly, Grey's fate must have switched hands. It was Alex's cross now.

* * *

Alex worked her magic. She pissed him off. She called him out, twisted his words, made him look sick, and unfortunately, made him say some awful things.

"You raped Kelly Gibbs. You raped her, and you knew what you were doing, you raped her even when she screamed at you to stop," Alex growled.

"I did not! It sounded good to me! Women scream like that in movies and games; it didn't hurt the little whining bitch!"

Kelly looked away. She had been watching stoically, but she looked away now.

"I don't like to be called that," she mumbled.

"She's goading my client, your honor!"

"Scale it back, Ms. Cabot," reprimanded Petrovsky.

Alex paused. She paced back and forth like a prowling predator before the witness box and eyed the harassed Grey, her eyes sharp.

"Do you think you're insane, Mr. Grey?" she asked in a deadly voice.

"I—what?" he barked back at her.

"Do you think you're insane, Mr. Grey?" she repeated, completely serious, her lips hardly moving with their precision.

"I didn't rape her!"

"That you did, Mr. Grey; the court has proof that you did! Your fingerprints! Your hair! Your seminal fluid! You raped Kelly Gibbs, and that is a fact, but you are on trial for your sanity—_do you think you are insane_?"

"I Didn't RAPE HER! I'm not guilty! It was love—it—"

"Your honor!" protested Spitzer.

"Enough," Petrovsky banged her gavel sharply, silencing the commotion. Alex and Spitzer both looked at her.

"Ms. Spitzer, do you have any more questions for this man?"

"I think he's proved my point, your honor," Spitzer said a little triumphantly.

"Humph," scoffed Petrovsky. She turned to the jury and began speaking, instructing them on what they were to do during deliberation. Jenny shifted towards Kelly. Jethro had his arm around her, but she had leaned forward, her hands in her palms, and was crying softly.

"Come on," Jenny said gently, "Kelly, let's go. We can come back and hear the verdict," she took Kelly's arm gently and Kelly looked up, glancing at her father before getting up and moving with Jenny.

Jethro turned, said something in a low voice to DiNozzo, and followed after a moment. Jenny and Kelly slipped out silently, and Jenny took Kelly over to a bench.

"He swore he wouldn't lie, he swore on the Bible," Kelly said breathlessly, sniffling. "He lied anyway," she whimpered.

"Sometimes people do that," Jenny said honestly, sitting down. Kelly followed her and perched on the edge of the bench. Jethro appeared next to one of the columns in the lobby, leaning against it subtle, his muscles all tight and angry, as he supervised.

"What if they believe him, Jenny? What if they let him out?"

"I don't think that's going to happen, Kelly—"

"You don't actually know. You can't promise," she said smartly.

"No," Jenny agreed, putting her hand to her stomach, "but I feel it in my gut, Kelly, I don't think he's going to go free. I think you told your story too well for the jury to think you lied," she explained earnestly.

Kelly looked at Jenny's hand and reached out and grasped it.

"Daddy has gut feelings, too," she said suddenly. "He's always right. Well, except for Lizzy. He thought Lizzy would be a boy."

Jenny smiled.

"Maybe he just wanted a boy," she said lightly. She gave Jethro a brief glance over his daughter's shoulder. Kelly smiled a little, blinking her tears clear. She squeezed Jenny's fingers.

"I wish Lizzy was here. Not to see the bad stuff, but because she's always happy. Lizzy always smiles," she said falteringly. She frowned and looked at Jenny hesitantly. "Jenny," she said slowly. "I—I'm afraid someone's going to hurt my sister."

Jenny shook her head, biting her lip. She placed her and Kelly's hand on her knee, patting Kelly's hand comfortingly.

"I think you Gibbs' have met your unfortunate events quota," she quipped, smiling a half smile.

"I guess so," Kelly remarked, nodding as if it made sense. She leaned over and curled her legs under her, making sure her little dress covered her knees. She titled her head against the wall of the courthouse. "Mommy used to worry all the time about something happening to Daddy, when he was in Kuwait," Kelly said thoughtfully. "Like the nights when Lizzy was itty-bitty, and she cried all the time, it would make Mom cry, too. I don't think she ever thought something would happen to her."

Jenny relaxed her shoulders, taking a more casual stance like Kelly had. She listened to the kid talk, figuring that's what she needed at the moment. Jethro shifted in his position, but Jenny avoided looking at him, sure he wouldn't want her to.

"You kind of remind me of Mom," Kelly said, looking at Jenny with her big blue eyes. "You don't keep things from me. You're different because of," Kelly nodded forward, and pointed at Jenny's orchid pendent. "Him. The Orchid Thief. But I think you would have been friends with Mom."

Kelly swallowed, closing her eyes. A few stray tears leaked out of her eyes and she looked down, gripping Jenny's knee a little. She took a shaky breath.

"I miss Mom," she said in a soft voice.

"It's okay, Kelly," Jenny said, pushing Kelly's waves of auburn hair back. She chewed on her lip. Jenny took the moment to look at Jethro for help. He was looking at his daughter as if in a daze. Jenny guessed it hadn't done much for his conscience to hear that his wife had been home crying over him while he fought in Desert Storm.

"Jenny," Kelly asked suddenly, in an uncertain voice. Jenny smiled, and opened her mouth to answer when the courtroom doors opened and people moseyed out, including Anthony DiNozzo.

"The jury went to deliberate," he announced distractedly. "Dammit, Gibbs, I wanted to kill him myself," he muttered to his colleague.

To Jenny's surprise, Jethro immediately raised his hand and whacked DiNozzo in the back of the head, sending his neck jolting forward. DiNozzo winced and glared at Jethro. Kelly looked over at the exchange, smiled in quiet amusement, and lapsed into silence.

Jenny considered asking her what she had been about to say, but she rubbed at her eyes and looked over at Jethro again like she wanted her dad. Jenny caught his eye and indicated her look. Kelly glanced away.

"Hey, Kel," Jethro said gruffly, crouching down by the bench. "Wanna give Liz a call? See if she's driven Gramma Jo crazy yet?" he asked, mustering a small smirk. Kelly considered his offer, then smiled and nodded, scooting of the bench.

Jenny leaned over against it, resting her elbow on the back and cradling her forehead in her palm.

"There's a phone a few feet to the right of the entrance," she said helpfully, gesturing in the general direction. She smiled a little as they walked away and looked at DiNozzo. Just for the hell of it, she raised her eyebrow inquiringly.

"He loves me," DiNozzo told her seriously. "He does. That slapping thing? It's how we play."

"Mmhmm," she murmured, smirking slightly.

The younger guy hesitated and then shifted on his feet, coming closer. He braced his hand against the wall and frowned.

"Do you really think they're going to convict that bastard?" he asked.

Jenny considered him carefully.

"Yes," she answered honestly. "I've never seen a case like this in which the jury didn't convict."

"Then why didn't you tell Kelly that?" he retorted.

"Because no matter what I think, I could be wrong," she said firmly. "And then I would have lied to her. And that's the last thing Kelly needs."

"That's nice," DiNozzo remarked after a moment. He looked in the direction Jethro had taken Kelly and his demeanor darkened. "The whole agency's out for blood," he said offhandedly, without provocation. "We like Kelly. Franks let her hang around when he was workin' Shannon Gibbs' case—I came in after that, a little. Kelly's sassy. She's smart as hell, too, it's creepy," he said, his eyes narrowing.

"She'll get her justice," Jenny remarked mildly, looking at DiNozzo intently.

He snorted skeptically. He seemed like a multi-layered person. Talkative and exuberant, but bitter and sarcastic underneath. Disillusioned, maybe.

"You know that for sure?" he asked, in the exact sarcasm she imagined for him.

Jenny gave a ghost of a smile.

"If that jury lets Grey walk, do you really think Jethro will let him live to see the light of another day?"

DiNozzo looked again in the direction of Kelly and Jethro. He swallowed hard, his eyes wide.

Slowly, he shook his head in the negative.

* * *

Alex stood straight and tall behind the oak of her desk. Spitzer, and Grey with her, stood in the same stiff stance, angled slightly towards the jury, as the elected foreman held the sentencing in front of him waiting for the judge to speak.

"On the charge of rape in the first degree, how does the jury find?"

Jenny rested her hand on Kelly's shoulder and looked over at her.

"Guilty," said the woman holding the sentencing papers.

Jenny smiled at Kelly. Kelly's eyes widened a little and she looked up at Jenny for confirmation; when she saw the redhead's smile, she stood up and hugged her. Jenny laughed as quietly as possible.

"Logan Grey the District of Columbia hereby finds you guilty of the charge of rape in the first degree—"

"Guilty?" Grey interrupted irately. "GUILTY?" He jerked forward and glared at the jury foreman, baring his teeth. "I'm not guilty—"

"Mr. Grey," Petrovsky barked. "Control yourself. You will be taken to a holding cell at—"

"You're not taking me any-fucking-where," he growled sharply, looking all around. "I don't get caught. I'm not going to fucking jail!" he pushed passed Spitzer and lunged at Alex. "This is your fault you goddamn bleeding-heart bitch!"

"Bailiff," Petrovsky snapped sharply. The two court guards, annoyed at the man's antics, moved forward immediately. One grabbed one of his arms and started pulling him backwards. Grey flicked his eyes on Kelly, his face turning red, a muscle in his jaw jumping. He bared his teeth at her, his eyes dark and full of rage.

"You miserable fucking cunt!" he shouted.

"Hey," DiNozzo growled. Jenny saw him go forward immediately, his hand dangerously close to his weapon. Jethro looked livid.

"Get her out of here," he said sharply to Jenny, giving her a cold look. If eyes had ever before held murder in them, his did now. Tangible and stinging. Jenny pulled Kelly out of the pew, tugging her insistently towards the door. She kept her arms protectively around Kelly. Grey struggled violently against security, kicking out nastily at the man's shin.

"I should have strangled you when I had the goddamn chance!" he snarled.

Jenny looked over viciously.

Before she knew what had happened, Grey had a gun. He twisted his body, upset his guard's weight to the floor, and fumbled security's weapon into his hand. Someone screamed, another shouted 'gun!' and half the courtroom was down on their knees when the first haphazard shot cracked off.

"KELLY," bellowed Jethro.

Jenny reacted instinctively. She saw Grey take sloppy aim at Kelly and grabbed her around the shoulders, slinging her around towards Jethro and jerking her down. She winced as another two shots fired off and covered Kelly's head.

Something ripped into her upper shoulder. She clenched her teeth.

"Son of a bitch," she swore, tears springing to her eyes.

"Jenny?" Kelly cried in a panic.

"Shhh!" Jenny ordered.

She looked up.

"Restrain him!" someone growled.

Jenny shoved Kelly down to the floor, turning her head. Her vision swam. Her shoulder was _killing_ her. She heard another shot, a terrified scream, and tilted her head. There was a spray of blood over Alex's desk, and Spitzer's body lay on the floor.

"Stabler," Jenny barked desperately.

She took the risk of rising up to look and winced when she saw the security grappling with Grey to get his gun back. It didn't last long. Grey, by luck, snatched his hand away, stumbled forward with the gun, and was stopped dead in his tracks. Quite literally.

Jethro, legally within his rights as a federal agent to carry a weapon in the courthouse, delivered a precise, fatal shot smack between Grey's eyes. His hand, clenched until it was white on the trigger of his Sig Sauer, looked as if it ached to pepper the man's body with slaughtering bullets, but he refrained. His only action of revenge or justice, both of which it could rightly be called, was to fire the final, customary second shot to make sure an assailant was good and dead. Grey's body fell, and for a moment, Jethro stood an indimidating, stony figure, every bit the trained killer he'd been for the USMC.

Jenny caught her breath, watching him stand there, watching the court security officer stare at him in shock for a minute, and then he looked over, and the excruciating pain in her arm slammed into her full force. She clenched her jaw again.

"Did she see that?" Jethro asked sharply, lowering his weapon. He jerked his head at his daughter.

"No," DiNozzo answered from somewhere above. "Jen—er, the redhead, she covered Kelly's face."

"Is she okay?" Jethro asked distractedly, crouching down beside Jenny. He slid his gun aside and DiNozzo attended to it carefully. Jethro muscled Jenny out of the way and she winced, scooting back and collapsing, her hand over her shoulder, against the side of the pew. "Kelly, are you okay? Answer me, Kelly," he growled at her.

Jenny turned her head. Kelly sat up slowly, shaking, her eyes wide. She had blood on the side of her face and down her shoulder.

"Kelly," Jethro said in a choked voice. He sounded terrified. Kelly mumbled something, her voice catching in her throat. "What?" he barked, yanking her towards him and trying to find a wound that wasn't there.

"I'm not hurt," she mumbled louder, her words broken by heavy, frightened breathing. "Jenny's hurt."

"It's my blood," Jenny said through tightly grit teeth. Her hand was covered in it now. She thought she'd been nicked, but there could be a bullet in her shoulder. She tilted her head forward, holding back a groan.

Kelly gasped, trying to get forward.

"No," Jethro ordered shortly. "Don't move," he said. He moved back and knelt in front of Jenny, moving her hand firmly and looking at the wound. He moved the sleeve of her clothing and she winced, sucking in her breath.

"Jesus God," she hissed. He put pressure on her arm and she tensed, shying away from him. "_Fuck_," she swore out of habit.

"Watch your language," he muttered. He seemed not to remember that Kelly had probably heard more foul language in the past two weeks than any other kid her age.

She looked over at Kelly.

"Sorry," she muttered.

"Are you oaky? Jenny?" Kelly asked. She tried to smile. Jethro prodded her again. He reached behind her shoulder and pressed his hand against her back. She then realized that hurt like hell, too. She jerked away. He tried to steady her.

"Don't move like that," he ordered.

"Stop touching me," she growled like a cornered animal.

"You taken a bullet before?" he asked gruffly.

"No," she answered. He glanced behind him. Footsteps; she heard footsteps.

"There's an ambulance comin' Jenny," that was Stabler's voice. She blinked. She felt dizzy and sick. And that wound was _hurting_. A shadow fell as he crouched in front of her too. "Spitzer's dead," he stated dully. "Here," he handed something to Jethro. Jenny's vision was blurry.

Jethro pressed something against Jenny's back. She whimpered.

"Dead?" she asked.

"He shot her in the head," Jethro answered in a low voice, glancing towards Kelly. "Tony," he said, jerking his head at her. DiNozzo seemed to take the hint.

"No," Kelly said. "_No_, I want to stay. Jenny, are you going to be okay?"

"Kelly, go with Tony," Jethro ordered.

"What if she dies, too, Daddy?"

"Honey, she's fine. She's not gonna die, _go_," he snapped. He didn't want her to see Spitzer's body. He trusted DiNozzo to keep her safe outside; what threatened he was gone now anyway. Kelly wasn't leaving. He glared, not at her, but at Jenny.

Jenny titled he head back against the pew and closed her eyes, breathing shallowly. She heard sirens, and Jethro telling Kelly she could see Jenny at the hospital. She concentrated on ignoring the pain.


	10. the Tenth

_Disclaimer: I'm not a doctor. If medical stretches/imperfections annoy you, skip the first like...300 words (and keep in mind that the writers of NCIS *clearly* aren't doctors, either). _

* * *

**Wednesday December 15th 1993. Bethesda Naval Hospital. 4:46 p.m.**

Doctor Todd Gelfand smiled a little as he handed Jenny Shepard a specimen jar containing one warped bullet—the very one that had just stopped short of being a clean shot through the redhead's shoulder.

"You know, Jenny," he remarked, letting go once she took it in her uninjured arm, "when I told you to stop bringing me children, I didn't mean replace them with yourself."

She smirked, shifting the arm tied up in a sling gently.

"Eh," she said airily. "It's that martyr complex. Damn psychology."

He smiled good-naturedly and patted her good shoulder, looking over his clipboard.

"Pretty clean shot. Keep the wound clean and there's no risk of infection, no major organs or muscle tissue damaged," he looked up at her. "Easy on the work for a week, and then take it slower than usual, just to be safe. I wouldn't expect any lasting damage, but you're going to experience plenty of discomfort," he paused again, "for which I am prescribing painkillers, unless you feel that is a bad idea."

Jenny blinked at him, slowly realizing what he meant.

"I was never addicted to drugs, Todd," she said mildly. "Painkillers won't hurt me."

He nodded and marked something down.

"Are you experiencing any pain now?" he asked, peering at her shoulder critically.

"Dull throbbing," Jenny answered offhandedly. She shrugged her shoulders and winced, managing a wry smile. Dr. Gelfand gave her a look and glanced over her file again. He straightened, tucking it under his arm.

"You're good then," he said, nodding affirmatively. "I'll have a nurse document that prescription for you and you can pick it up when you sign out. I'm going to ask you to hang around for another half hour to make sure your stitches hold with movement. If not, I'll staple you up."

Jenny glared at him half-heartedly. Dr. Gelfand grinned and then glanced towards the door, gesturing for someone to enter. It opened, and Munch slunk in under his hat, his hands in his heavy coat pocket. The coat was flecked with snow.

"You're allowed in the club now," he told her seriously.

Jenny laughed. He spoke of none other than the infamous precinct fourteen "Gunshot" club, in which the members had all experienced some sort of aforementioned wound. She'd been the odd man out since she started, if you didn't include Alex and Dr. Huang in the mix of SVU colleagues.

"How's it do you for?" he asked, peering at the sling on her arm. Jenny shrugged, then proceeded to wince when the action induced pain to shoot out through her nerve endings into her fingertips.

"Ow," she muttered bluntly. "It has disarmed my most effective body language tool: The Shrug," she remarked wryly. Munch smirked. He shrugged his own shoulders, as if to show her what she was missing.

"What went down?" Jenny asked, furrowing her brows a bit. She didn't remember much. She remembered being told—

"He killed Spitzer?"

Munch nodded solemnly.

"Shot in the back of the head as she turned to run," he answered. "It was pure chaos, that's what Stabler said—I was still at the stationhouse when Cragen got the call. Elliot said it took a minute, but after Agent Gibbs shot Grey, some NCIS agent locked the place down. Elliot said he'd never seen it done so fast."

"DiNozzo," muttered Jenny, vaguely reminded that Jethro had been snapping at the goofy agent to get his daughter out of the courtroom. She hadn't listened, so Tony must have moved on to something else.

"We took care of the crime scene," Munch said. "Grey's body," he added in a low voice.

Jenny looked up at him, shaking her head slightly.

"You should have seen the shot he made, John," she said reverently. "Smack between the eyes, and he hardly even took aim. It was damn good," she remarked.

"Marine corp sniper," grunted Munch. Jenny lifted a brow. She had not come across that detail when she'd profiled him. Interesting. She shook her head again, letting out her breath slowly.

"God I bet it felt good," she murmured.

"You know how it feels, Jen," Munch reminded shortly, shrugging his thin shoulders again. Jenny gave him a half smile and Munch lifted an eyebrow at her. She looked at Munch thoughtfully and pursed her lips.

"You really can move on easier," she said softly. "When the man who raped you is dead."

"I wouldn't know," Munch said, bowing out of the conversation. He pointed to her slung up arm, his face serious. "You realize this means I get to drive, no contest."

She narrowed her emerald eyes and scowled at him.

"You want to put money on that, old man?"

He smirked at her. He seemed to hesitate, and then jerked his head towards the door he'd entered through.

"There's a pretty worried kid in the waiting room," he ventured nicely. "Think she might be anxious about you," he muttered. Jenny paused, her lips parted. It struck her in an odd way to learn Kelly was waiting to see if she was all right. It made her feel good—and kind of like crying.

"Is this your illustrious seal of approval?" she asked primly, standing up from the gurney she was sitting on. She flashed him a toothy smile.

"That you slept with him? No," Munch answered.

Jenny stared at him. She wasn't sure she wanted to know how the hell he knew that had happened. He had insinuated outside the courtroom, and she had owned up to some sort of infraction (in a way) but it was damn creepy that he could just pinpoint the event. He gave her a rather condescending look and narrowed his eyes.

"I'm not stupid, Jen," he said gruffly. "You're never late, especially to court. And you and he didn't say a word to each other until Kelly was clear. Face it. I know you."

"Well, get out of my head, please," she warned a little playfully.

He inclined his head.

"My last word on the matter," he remarked, placing a patronizing hand over his heart. Jenny considered him, and smiled. She approached him, and wrapped her good arm around his shoulders, the highest she could currently reach. She hugged him as best as she could.

John awkwardly hugged her back, scowling grumpily about it.

"I still think it's cute you watch over me, you old bastard," she said quietly, stepping away from him. He glared at her uncomfortably and jerked his thumb at the door.

"Agent Gibbs would probably be thankful to you if you appeared and made his daughter stop crying," he said shortly. Jenny gave him a teasing, sappy smile and walked towards the door, shifting her shoulder a little. She had to get used to the sling idea.

"Jenny."

She turned. Munch gave her a solemn look.

"Benson did a work-up on bullet trajectories with eye witnesses," he said neutrally. "The one you took? It was meant for Kelly's head."

Jenny looked at him impassive. She swallowed.

"You didn't tell Jethro that did you?" was all she asked, very sharply. He raised his shoulders to say he didn't know if someone had or not. She flashed a small smirk, processing the information and left.

Munch shook his head with a sigh as she exited, and she smiled to herself, walking the familiar halls of Bethesda Naval Hospital to get to the waiting room. There were a surprising amount of people there for a Wednesday—not to say that Jenny generally knew the fast or slow days for hospital; it was simply an observation—but she spotted Kelly almost right away. She was with Jethro, separated from the majority of people in the room, curled up in her seat with her face buried in Jethro's arm.

He was staring at her. It looked like he said something; Kelly shook her head furiously. Jenny stepped out of someone's way and made a path over quietly. Jethro caught sight of her, poked Kelly gently in the shoulder, and gave Jenny a relieved look.

Kelly glared at Jethro tearfully.

Casually, Jenny sat down in the empty seat next to the little girl and tilted her head curiously.

"What's with the tears?" she asked mildly.

Kelly looked at her, her eyes widening a little. She shrank down in her seat again and looked at Jenny without speaking for a minute. Then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting a few more tears fall.

"I thought you were going to die," she said in a soft, quivery voice. "You had too much blood on you," she whispered. She looked at Jenny and then sat up slowly, swiping her palm under her eyes swiftly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, Kelly," Jenny said positively. "It's just a flesh wound, nothing serious. Seriously," she said, cracking a smile. Kelly inclined her head uncertainly. She looked up over her shoulder at Jethro.

"Like your injury from Panama?" she asked, furrowing her brow. He shook his head slightly, then lifted his hand and tapped his ribcage.

"Nicked my bottom rib," he reminded her. Kelly nodded in remembrance and looked back at Jenny, sitting up some more. She looked at the injury, sniffling a little, calming down some. The poor girl was pale and her blue eyes were red and watery. She blinked slowly and leaned closer to Jenny, curling up in the middle of her chair instead of so close to Jethro's side.

"Does it hurt?" asked Kelly hesitantly, looking at Jenny's arm warily still. Jenny shook her head, frowning a little.

"It's not fun, but it will be okay," she reiterated, putting a smile back on. Kelly remained rather quiet and leaned her head against her seat, still looking at Jenny uncertainly. It was almost like she didn't believe Jenny was okay.

"I don't want anyone else I like to get hurt," she murmured shakily. Jenny gave her a sympathetic smile and Jethro pulled his hand through her hair, kissing the top of her head gently.

"It's all right, Kelly," he soothed softly. "He can't ever hurt you again."

"I don't care about me," she said. "Just other people."

Jenny smiled and reached out, taking Kelly's hand and squeezing it gently.

"I really do think you've had your run of bad luck Kelly," she said earnestly.

Kelly looked at her for a moment and then flicked her eyes hesitantly towards Jethro, and back at Jenny.

"Daddy shot the Rat King," she said very quietly. Jenny nodded. "I feel wrong because I'm glad he's dead," she said, her lips shaking. She lowered her head and squinted her eyes, a few tears leaking out.

"He hurt a lot of people," Jenny remarked mildly, unwilling to tread into dangerous territory about vigilante justice and righteousness with someone else's daughter. Jethro's beliefs might not be her beliefs, but something subtle told her they were. Still, she refrained.

"Why did he try to shoot everyone?" Kelly asked.

"He didn't want to accept the punishment he deserved," Jenny answered shortly. "Jail. He didn't want to go."

Kelly chewed on her lip. She brought up her hand and swiped at her tears again, drying off her face. Jenny took a passing glance at Jethro. He was watching her protectively, his hand rubbing her shoulder absently as if it were an instinctive, paternal drive to comfort her on a subconscious level. Her face screwed up and she literally burst into tears again, startling Jethro. He stiffened and leaned towards her.

"It isn't fair. I don't like it," she stammered out suddenly, and she shifted towards Jenny, alternately closing her eyes and trying to blink through tears at the redhead. "He died and I have to live with it. I wish it had never happened. He still gives me nightmares and makes me cry and he's not supposed to be able to hurt me anymore but he does! He makes me feel sick and bad and dirty and all the kids at school and those people in the court know what he did and they treat me different and I just want to be _Kelly_," she sobbed, hiding her face in her hands. "People don't understand," she whimpered, looking u pat Jenny again, "they don—they _don't_, under—" she stammered desperately, and Jenny moved closer, reaching out helpfully to Kelly.

Kelly scooted up to her and clutched her shirt, hiding her face in Jenny's shoulder. She tangled her fingers in Jenny's orchid pendant necklace and Jenny hugged her tightly, nodding her head just a little. She avoided looking at Jethro for the moment.

"You can't fault people for not understanding," she said softly. "You can't fault them for trying, either. The people at your school, the kids are too young. You've grown up faster than them, even more so now. Adults can't handle it," she explained, putting her hand on Kelly's head. "It's hard for everyone. It's so much worse for you, I know," she paused, taking a breath. She closed her eyes, sort of blocking out anyone else.

Like it was just Kelly, and she.

"I still have nightmares, Kelly," she admitted thickly. "I still cry over what the Orchid Thief did to me. But he doesn't scare me. He doesn't own me, and it took me a long time to accept that. I found my peace. You'll find yours, honey, I promise. You have to promise me you won't let your rape drag you down a dark path," she pleaded, her voice shaking.

Kelly nodded. She squeezed Jenny's arm gently, below where the redhead was injured.

"I promise," she said, pulling back a little and looking at Jenny. She chewed on her lip. "Please don't cry," she pleaded. "I didn't mean to make you." Jenny smiled through her watery eyes. She hadn't realized she was. She ruffled Kelly's hair affectionately, swallowing hard.

Jethro had leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, watching carefully. He met Jenny's eyes swiftly and held her gaze, the look in them miserable and devastated for a moment before he blinked it away and gave her a small, bitter smile.

Kelly sniffled, pushing her thick hair behind her ears. She looked up at Jenny, her eyes searching for something, and pursed her lips, trying to keep them from shaking. Jenny reached up and brushed Kelly's hear back forwardly, pressing her palm against the kid's cheek.

"It's over. You can move forward, Kelly," she said encouragingly. "You can have a good Christmas," she said softly, concealing the shake in her own voice. "It sounds impossible, yeah, but it's not. No school, plenty of lights, presents…just take a break. Relax," she said gently. "You _will_ have a good Christmas, Kelly Gibbs," she ended, playfully stern.

Kelly smiled. She laughed a little shakily.

"Tony is going to buy me _Casablanca,_" she said. "So I can watch it whenever I want to."

Jenny smiled. She let her hand fall slowly off of Kelly's cheek and nodded, as if confirming that it would be good. Kelly's brow furrowed, and she bit her lip, narrowing her eyes a little. She swallowed and looked at Jenny, taking a deep breath.

"Jenny?" she asked, and it was in the same voice she'd started to say something outside the courtroom, when Jethro had whisked her away to call her little sister.

"Kelly?" responded Jenny in the same voice, drawing a small smile to Kelly's lips.

"I don't," she paused, and frowned, as if she didn't know what she was trying to say. "Now that the case is over, you won't have to keep an eye on me or talk to Daddy. I don't want to not—not see you anymore? Um," Kelly looked at her helplessly. "Do you know what I'm trying to say? I mean I…I want to still see you and—and talk to you, if I have to."

Jenny smiled, her eyes brightening. She nodded her head, winking at Kelly.

"You still have that business card I gave you. It's yours. You call anytime, no problem," she paused, and straightened, looking up at Jethro. "You have to make sure it's okay with your Dad, though, okay?"

She was looking at Jethro now. They probably needed to have a talk, hash some things out. Now probably wasn't the time. Kelly was nodding slowly, looking back at Jethro. She smiled at him and he smiled back, his eyes softening at the happier look on her face.

"Kelly," Jethro said gently. "We should go. Your sister will go stir crazy if we're gone much longer," he warned. Kelly nodded. She slipped out of her chair and stood close to Jenny's crossed legs.

"You have to come see Mike Franks—I mean the cat," she clarified, smiling impishly. "Elizabeth would be thrilled. I'm not just saying that either. She thinks you're funny," Kelly said warmly.

Jenny smiled. She looked at Kelly for a moment and then reached out and gave her a hug without any shame, resting her chin on the younger girl's head.

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger," she said softly, shrugging off the cliché. Whether it was a common line or not was immaterial; it was one of the truest things a human being had ever stated.

"When it is dark enough, you can see the stars," Kelly responded. She smiled brightly when Jenny gave her a curious look, the other woman's green eyes twinkling. "It's Ralph Waldo Emerson," Kelly said a little shyly.

"I know," Jenny said, still surprised Kelly had referenced the very man whose book of poems had once helped Jenny herself so much in dark days. She wondered if Jethro had yet given Kelly the box of stuff Jenny had thrown together out of the blue. "He's my favorite poet."

"I like Emily Dickinson and Robert Frost," Kelly said good-naturedly. "But that quote is pretty, if you think about it. Bad things always make you cherish the good."

Jenny looked at Kelly for a moment, and then broke into a smile, tugging on a lock of her auburn hair gently and giving her a small laugh.

"Girl, you're gonna be just fine," she declared optimistically.

And she damn well believed it.

* * *

**Wednesday December 15th 1993. Car of Leroy Jethro Gibbs. 5:15 p.m.**

Jethro glanced at Kelly to see how she was holding up the whole way home. He was not looking forward to dealing with his mother-in-law when they arrived: she would be hysterical, overdramatic, and no doubt blame him for this. He had called her from the hospital; more willing to fill her in himself than, heaven help him, let her hear it on the news.

It was nearing dinner time now, and he was thinking when he got rid of Joanne, he might take the girls out to their favorite restaurant, just to give them a little fun. Jenny had reminded him it _was_ the Christmas season.

"Somethin' on your mind, Kelly?" he asked mildly, noticing her thoughtful look. She looked over at him and chewed on her lip, reaching up to push her hair back. She clasped her hands in her lap and squinted her eyes a little.

"Daddy," she said softly. "Do you feel bad you killed the Rat King?"

Jethro blinked, and focused his eyes back on the road.

"No," he answered finally, in a very clipped voice. He didn't want to talk about this with her; dammit, Kelly was so smart and so precocious anyway, he just wanted her to have a childhood without all this pain and misery and disillusionment. But he wasn't going to lie to her. He would never lie to either one of his kids.

"Did you want to kill him?" was Kelly's next insightful question. He gripped the steering wheel a little bit tighter, his knuckles flashing white briefly at the pressure. He thought about it. He didn't want to hesitate too long; he didn't want his daughter getting the idea he was some ruthless vigilante.

Of course, he had to believe himself that he was not. Logan Grey did make the second man he'd killed and felt good doing it.

"Kelly," he said quietly, keeping his eyes ahead. "That…_man_," he refrained from using more colourful language. "hurt you. He laid a hand on you in a way no one ever should and I," he paused, swallowing hard. "I wasn't there to protect you from that. I didn't want him to have even the remote chance to ever touch you again. I don't want you to feel like you're not safe," he stopped again and grit his teeth briefly. "Murder is wrong, Kelly, you know that."

He felt her looking at him, paying close attention, and glanced towards her, his eyes unreadable.

"Jail was too good for him," he said finally, a roundabout way of answering. Kelly looked at him solemnly, her lips parted slightly. She looked out the front windshield as he stopped at a red light; looked at the darkening sky and the flecks of snow that littered the nation's capital.

"I don't think its murder when you are protecting someone," she said softly. She looked down at her hands. "Murder is what that bad guy committed when he shot Mommy."

A chill gripped Jethro's heart. He shut his eyes briefly, waiting to go on green. Flashes played in his brain, grainy and filmy, of Franks casually leaving a file on a table, kissing Kelly goodbye while he disappeared for a day to take a fatal shot in Mexico.

He hadn't shot that arm of the Rinosa drug cartel to protect anyone. It had been a harsh, cold-blooded act of a personal brand of vigilante justice and it hadn't made the ache and the loss go away, but he still was glad he did it to this day.

Kelly was silent again. He desperately wanted to know what she was thinking these days; he wanted to know if she still had her head in books and dreams and school or if all she could think about was her rape. He wished he had insight; he recognized the possibility that maybe he wouldn't be able to handle knowing.

Kelly shifted and pulled one of her legs up in the seat, curving it under her and twirling her fingers around Jethro's dog tags.

"Daddy, remember when you told me that sex is how you have a baby, and it's not a sin like some people say, but it is supposed to be used when two people who love each other want to have a child?"

"Yeah, you remember all that?" he asked, pretty sure he'd used the exact wording there. It had been probably one of the most awkward moments of his life, thought it was alleviated by the fact that it had started with Kelly coming to him, presenting a book she was reading, and ordering him to explain what sex was. He'd taken the book away for her to read at an older age. He didn't even remember what it was called.

Kelly was nodding. She stopped twirling Jethro's dog tags and looked at them, her lips pursed hesitantly.

"I'm too young to have a baby," she said, furrowing her brow. "And the Rat King…I mean, I didn't even know him. He was going to go to jail, and you go to jail if you do bad things, so he made it a sin. I mean, it must be a sin then. Is that—is rape, is that what you meant when you said it isn't always used to have a baby?"

"No," he shook his head. "No. Rape is a crime," he growled, more forcefully than he meant to. Kelly looked up at him apprehensively. He clenched his teeth, wishing he could bang his head against a wall. They were nearing home now, he had no idea how to explain any of this to her.

His birds-and-bees talk had consisted of what he and Shannon always agreed it would: Kelly was told the mechanics, she was told to come to them—well, him, since Shannon had been dead by then—and she was told sex wasn't to be looked at as dirty, but it was special and reserved for loving relationships and reproduction tied in one.

Shannon had maintained that she wouldn't go down the path her own mother did and have Kelly grow up thinking sex was wrong and then rebel against them or something. They had to give her enough to help her understand until she was older.

"Jenny said I couldn't tell the boys at school what it was like because I've never really had sex. She said sex didn't hurt like rape did and it meant you made a choice and someone cared about you but," Kelly paused. She swallowed and her voice shook. "It feels dirty, what he did, and it's like sex but not really, and what if when I grow up, men think I'm dirty…?"

Jethro shook his head. Serve him right for wishing he knew what was in her young head. He wasn't sure how to handle this. He couldn't tell her what it was like to make love to someone you wanted to spend the rest of your life with—she was his _daughter_, for Christ's sake, and not only was that inappropriate, she was too young. She was struggling to understand the line between rape and sex, which had the same mechanics but completely different definitions and emotional philosophy.

"It's hard to understand, Kelly," he said gently, swallowing a lump in his throat. It had taken a moment to reply, and she fixed wide blue eyes on him instantly, closing her mouth, ceasing in trying to explain herself. "I know it is. You're too young for half of it, and yeah, that makes you mad. Honey, you have to understand though…this isn't what I was talking about when I said sex isn't always used to have a baby. There's a lot you'll have to understand when you're older. YOu have to trust me, Kelly, and just wait to ask until you're older, about some things. Can you trust me?"

He shook his head, making the turn onto their suburban street. He looked over at her briefly, careful to keep control of the car.

"You aren't dirty. I don't ever want to hear you say that again," he warned gently. "I don't want you to feel that way. I want you to stay innocent, Kelly, and someone stole that from you but I can still see who you are. What Jenny said—Jenny's right, there will be someone who loves you, and nothing will make them think you're _dirty_," he almost spat the word out. "You can't be blamed for something that wasn't your fault."

He slowed the car, pulling carefully into their driveway next to Joanne's car. He kept his eyes ahead, thought about what he'd said, and narrowed his eyes, sliding the gears into park and touching the keys hesitantly.

"Of course, this _someone_ will never love you as much as I do," he growled mildly.

Kelly laughed. It relieved him; it was like sunshine in the middle of the darkest night, hearing her laugh. It always felt like that now. He wanted to hear her laughter not only because he'd always liked hearing Kelly and Elizabeth laugh, but now it was like gold. It meant she could still be happy.

Jethro turned off the car. He looked at her, smiled, and Kelly smiled back. She hadn't cried; she'd just had a lot of questions. Jenny's remarks about having a good Christmas made her want to clear her head.

"Hey," Jethro said gruffly, as she was unbuckling her seatbelt. "We are going to have a good Christmas this year," he informed her. "Last year wasn't good, and I'm sorry. I promise it will be better," he said, his voice getting gruffer.

Kelly stopped in reaching for the door and looked at him, and back at the car next to theirs in the driveway.

"Gramma was trying to get custody last year," she said quietly. "She made it worse. She doesn't understand."

Kelly looked down at her clothes, tilting her head a little at Shannon's necklace, mingled with his dog tags. She looked back up at him.

"Daddy, you aren't doing a bad job," she told him suddenly. "You take care of Liz and I. I know this girl at school whose dad doesn't know her favorite colour, but you know our favorite everything. If Mommy knew Gramma tried to take us away, she'd be pissed. You're a good Daddy, okay? It's annoying when you think you're not."

He looked at her in shock. What a speech. It felt odd to be sort of put in his place by his eight-year-old. Trust Kelly to have picked up on his penchant for beating himself up over what he could or couldn't do as a parent.

He smiled slowly, not really trusting himself to speak, and reached out to hug her. He rested his chin on her head after a quick kiss to her forehead.

"I love you, Kelly," he said sincerely, pretty sure he could take on Joanne and anything she threw at him after what Kelly had said. Hell, he could probably take on anything, if Kelly could face what had happened to her.

* * *

Jethro was more than prepared for Elizabeth to charge at his knees when he entered the house—he was looking forward to it. There was nothing he loved more than being so enthusiastically greeted by his kid.

"Daddy-Daddy-Daddy-Daddy-_Daddy_—" she repeated excitedly, launching herself into his arms as he reached down to scoop her up. Kelly smiled, hanging up her coat and gloves. Jethro cuddled Elizabeth close, giving her a hug.

Kelly slipped past him, and he heard Joanne make a remark from the other room.

"How was your day, sweetheart?" he asked quietly, smiling at her. She looked so happy. She wrinkled her nose cutely and tilted her head back and forth as if she were trying to decide.

"Okay," she settled on finally. "Kelly's kitty-cat is hiding and Gramma wouldn't let me play on the boat I missed Kelly Kelly always plays with me Gramma cleaned," she rambled, all of it one, big, hyper sentence.

Jethro made an exaggerated face and Elizabeth copied it, nodding about the cleaning. On the inside, though, Jethro bristled. If his mother-in-law had moved everything about he was going to go off on her…

"Are you sure you're alright, Kelly Marie? _Gunfire_ in the courtroom, _goodness_ me," Joanne could be heard having a meltdown. Jethro rolled his eyes at Lizzy and transferred her around to his back, easily giving her a piggy back ride into the sitting room.

She slung her arms around his neck and held on, pressing a kiss to his cheek with a blush and giggling. He smirked.

"It wasn't too bad," Kelly said airily as he walked in. She pulled back from giving her grandmother a tight hug. "Nothing like Iraq or Kuwait," she said with a smile, looking over at Jethro. He returned it. "Hey, Lizzy," she greeted, narrowing her eyes playfully at her sister. "How come you didn't say 'hi' to me first? I thought you loved me more, anyway?"

"Daddy. Down," ordered Elizabeth immediately. Jethro crouched and let her scramble off, smiling yet again when she scampered around and hugged Kelly tightly.

"She behave today, Joanne?" he asked civilly, turning his attention guardedly to Shannon's mother. Joanne nodded, just as civil.

"She's a bit of a wild child, Jethro, but I suppose that's understandable," the woman remarked, and Jethro grit his teeth. Yet another dig at his alleged inability to raise, control, and/or nurture his children without Shannon around.

The only reason he tolerated Joanne was because he knew it would break Shannon's heart if he shut her out of the girls' lives. Even if she was a poisonous bitch half the time. He glanced at Kelly and Elizabeth to see what they were occupied with.

"Kitty Mike is lost, Kelly. I can't find him," Elizabeth told her sister solemnly.

"We'll go look, come on," Kelly said, crinkling her nose.

"Just a moment, Kelly Marie," Joanne said shortly, turning to her granddaughter. Jethro cringed. He had no idea why Joanne insisted on referring to Kelly but her first and middle name. It made her sound so austere. She didn't call Lizzy 'Elizabeth April'.

"Yes, ma'am?"

Joanna smiled at her a little.

"When do you get out of school, dear? I thought your grandfather and I might take you shopping for your Christmas present," she offered. "Elizabeth too, of course, but we thought we'd take each of you separately."

"No dresses," Elizabeth said mindfully, looking suspiciously at Joanne. Jethro smirked.

"I get out on December seventeenth, Friday," Kelly answered. "I would like that, Gramma Jo, thank you," she said, offering a polite smile. "Are we still having Christmas brunch at your house?"

Joanne seemed to hesitate.

"No," she answered finally, and Jethro was surprised. All hell had broken loose last year when he had refused to take the girls to Christmas brunch while Joanne was fighting him for custody. Shannon's poor father, caught up in his wife's web, had been very disappointed. "Grandaddy and I are going on a cruise."

"Oh," Kelly said, tilting her head and nodding. "I hope you have fun."

"Gramma," Elizabeth piped up excitedly. "Gramma, I want a coconut! From the Carra-bean!" she announced, jumping up happily, her hair bouncing.

Joanne smiled indulgently.

"I'll see what I can do, darling," she said. "Now give Grandmother a kiss. I think it's best if I leave before your father glares a hole in my head," she said lightly, but Jethro grimaced, and tensed. She was so passive-aggressive, and he couldn't understand why—when he made every effort to be civil and let her be in the girls' lives—she constantly made derogatory comments in front of them.

It wasn't healthy for them to be in the midst of a family feud, if that's what Joanne was engaging him in. He didn't know why the hell Joanne thought it was okay to make his kids a part of her personal grudge against him. Simply because she thought he'd '_ruined'_ Shannon. And all because she caught them hitting third base in his car when they were nineteen. Damn good thing she _thought_ it was the first time—and the farthest they'd gone.

The memory brought a sort of smirk to his face. God, he really missed Shannon sometimes.

"Wipe that arrogant smirk off your face, Jethro, it makes you look like you're up to no good," she said under her breath as she moved away from the girls and approached him with a slightly sourer look on her face.

He was saved from making an ugly face only by the sight of Lizzy putting her finger to her lips and trying to coerce Kelly into sneaking away quietly.

"I would like to speak with you," Joanne said stiffly.

He gave her an impassive look and nodded shortly, jerking his head towards the door. Leading the way, he selected her coat from among the many on the hooks and handed it to her cordially. She did not thank him.

"Is everything going all right, Jethro?"

"We're fine, Joanne," he said shortly.

"Let me clarify. Are you sure you're handling this correctly? Are you sure you _can_ handle it?"

Jethro set his jaw, gearing up for battle.

"Correctly?" he repeated disdainfully through clenched teeth. "Is there something you're not tellin' me, Joanne? You got experience in handling something like this _correctly_?" he spat the last word at her, his eyes narrowing.

She gave him a cold look.

"It is a simple question. It did not warrant you jumping down my throat. You've always seemed a very…closed person to me, Jethro, even when my daughter was alive, and I would think Kelly Marie needs reassurance and affection right now."

"I know what my daughter needs," he growled at his mother-in-law, his blue eyes hardening considerably. "I love those girls, Joanne. I've never needed you to tell me how to do it, goddamnit."

She looked briefly appalled at the harsh language.

"Let me tell you something, Jethro—"

"No," he cut her off in a low voice, narrowing his eyes on hers. "No, Joanne, let me tell _you_. I never wanted to push you out of Kelly or Elizabeth's life, but you've tried your damndest to take them away from me. Where the hell do you get off thinking that is anywhere near what Shannon would want? Yeah, you didn't think I was good enough for her and she turned up her nose at you—but those kids are _ours_. They're _mine_ and they're _hers_ and we loved them together before she died and that didn't make me love them any less. I am their father. I am sick and tired of your underhanded attempts to hurt me using them. They are off limits. You got a problem with me, fine, but your manipulation of my girls stops now. Kelly's been through enough. So help me God, Joanne, I don't want them to lose you, Shannon would hate it if that happened, but I will not tolerate your bullshit anymore. Am I making myself clear?"

He had never given such a speech to Shannon's mother; he was positive he'd never even dared consider it. It would have hurt Shannon too much. He felt no remorse for this, though, not even when he saw the almost injured, shocked look in his late wife's mother's eyes. Things had gotten bad when Lizzy told him she didn't want to stay with her grandmother because she picked up on the animosity.

He stood his ground with Joanne, in hushed tones in the doorway.

"Crystal," she responded in a clipped voice, after the longest short moment of time.

Her look was pointedly blank for a moment and then she snorted, unfolding her arms and relaxing her shoulders.

"If I'd known you had such a backbone, Jethro, I don't think I'd ever have messed with you," she remarked, surprisingly enough. He gave her a wary look and she rolled her eyes, lifting her shoulders a little. "Shannon was out of her mind in love with you. I just had to know you were good enough," she said.

She gave him a thoughtful look and shrugged.

"You'll understand that one day," she remarked.

He considered her. He already did. Not only were his daughters confined to single womanhood until they were thirty, he was going to interview ever potential boyfriend with his sniper rifle in his lap.

"Was I good enough, Joanne?" he asked her in a hoarse, brittle voice. He didn't understand how he ever could have fallen short. Shannon had been the world to him, and nothing less.

"Of course you were," Joanne said as if it were nothing. She slipped on her coat, pulling on patent leather gloves and winding a scarf around her neck. "Shannon was too smart to love someone who didn't deserve her."

Jethro gave her a critical look as he opened the door, unsure if he shoulder trust this rare and odd show of genuine civility and candor. He didn't understand Joanne. If he was good enough, if she'd always thought he had been, why the behavior? He clenched his teeth together in frustration.

Joanne nodded to him as he held the door, a small smile quirking up on her lips.

"And I always did like you, Jethro," she remarked mildly, walking down the steps. She hunched her shoulders into the wind and Jethro shut the door slowly after she left, reaching up top rub his creased brow. _Women_.

Drawing a deep breath, he focused all of his thoughts now on Kelly and Elizabeth, and feeding them, and making the rest of this night much less stressful than Kelly's harrowing day in court.

* * *

**Wednesday December 15th 1993. Washington, D.C. 14th Precinct; SVU. 10:07 p.m.**

Jenny repeatedly flexed the fingers of her injured shoulder, occupying her invalid arm with something trivial while she finished crossing the Ts and dotting the Is of the Gibbs case file. It felt good to do so, and she performed the task with a small smile, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

It was one of the cases she felt good, felt optimistic about. Yes, she had plenty of files around her full of dead kids, molestations, and horrific tales of abuse, but to know that one little girl was going to be okay, it made the job worth it. So worth it.

She signed her name with a flourish and slowly shut the file, tapping her finger on it primly as if she had conquered it.

"Case closed," Munch announced loudly and gruffly from behind her, and she jumped, wincing when pain shot through her shoulder and to her fingertips again. She straightened in her chair and glared at him.

"Why aren't you at home?" he growled at her before she could say anything, looking pointedly at her gunshot wound.

She shrugged nonchalantly (and carefully).

"You're hurt. Case is done. Go," he said.

"Ah, John," she muttered, shaking her head without a care. "I don't have anything to go home too. I'd rather be here."

"Humpf," he grumbled, putting up some files on the child abuse designated drawer of some filing cabinets.

"Let's have a drink then?"

"What, me, you, and hey! Let's invite Cragen!" she responded good-naturedly. "You know I don't drink."

"I will buy you a ginger ale."

"I appreciate the thought. No."

John glanced at her, as if he were trying to figure out what her problem was. He did a lot of trying to figure out what her supposed problem was. She had tired of attempting to convince him her problems were becoming few and far between these days, and a lot of that was in thanks to him, Huang, and the opportunities this entire precinct had given her. She smiled to herself.

Stabler had gone home early to his wife and his kids. Benson was hanging around somewhere; she was one of the few who seemed to always be present, always be lurking. Cragen was in his office, desk lamp illuminating his work. Jenny had seen Fin down in evidence, running up a lead on a rape/robbery that another precinct had discovered might be connected.

There was a lot of recon and paperwork going on. Not much "new" or crackdown work. It was peaceful, by standards of the Special Victims Unit. Jenny was content to stick around and immerse herself in cases that now seemed deadlocked, or in helping whoever might be helped.

"You think you did your thing with the little girl?" Munch ventured sarcastically.

"My 'thing'?" quoted Jenny with some amusement, lifting her brows.

"Yeah, you know, 'thing'. The reason you're so good with the victims?"

Jenny smiled. She shrugged and looked down at Kelly's file.

"I like to think so," she said. "Kelly's going to make it. I think she spent so much time taking care of her sister and worrying about her father, when she had things ripped out from beneath her, she needed someone to tell her it was okay to cry and that she was going to survive in one breath."

Munch made a face and tilted his head, his eyes bespeaking agreement with Jenny's thoughtful statement.

"What about Agent Gibbs?" probed Munch.

Jenny gave him a mildly sharp look, the gaze a contradiction in itself.

"You wanna clarify on what you're asking?"

"Can he handle it?"

"Damn, John, he's halfway there. Soldiers know how to deal with pain, suffering, and trauma. Facing it on the home front sucks, facing it in his daughter is worse, but it's a part of their training. He's enough of a rock for her."

"Philosophical," remarked Munch dryly. "You plan on sleeping with him again?"

"Are you still concerning yourself with that?" Jenny half-barked, her glare warning him to back away from the tense subject. She hadn't even fully considered it herself. She hadn't had the time. It was too damn hard to believe it had been last night that she and Jethro had shared her bed.

"I'm a lecherous old man," her responded wittily.

"Oooh, with a sense of humor," she growled at him. She fell silent and looked away, blinking slowly. It was a stupid, stupid mistake. She didn't know if she should be angry with Jethro for how he'd come to her house and been so sweet. No; she was an idiot for falling into that trap. Yet she shied from calling it a trap; they had both stumbled. Emotional connection and removed comfort, she called it.

It made sense to _her_.

Annoyingly enough, contemplating the magnitude of the unintelligent indiscretion did nothing to mitigate how incredible the actual sex had been.

"You don't have to police my sex life anymore," she quipped suddenly, giving him a wry smile.

He gave her a serious look.

"I won't. As long as he didn't pay you."

Jenny laughed at the deadpan delivery of the joke that, overheard by anyone who didn't know her history, or did, and didn't understand their friendship, would have been offensive and appalling.

After a moment, Munch looked at her slyly.

"I would just like to take a moment to bask in the glory of the fact that I was right. You had the hots for him."

"No," she snapped.

"Yes."

"NO!"

"This is childish, Jen."

She shook her head, a half-smile quirking up her lips.

"You know, John, there are some things about me, some things I do or say, that you will never understand," she told him matter-of-factly, turning her emerald eyes on him with a contemplative look. He lifted his brows skeptically. She shrugged, as if to say, 'yeah, it's true'.

He narrowed his wrinkled eyes at her and she smirked, rotating casually in her chair. She stopped, then picked up her file delicately and got up, flicking off her own desk lamp, her eyes drifting to the clock on the wall. It was nearing ten o'clock.

"Hey, document this moment," she remarked, snatching her coat and purse up as she tucked the file under her arm. "I'm taking your advice."

"Heading home?

"Mmhmm."

"Take the day off tomorrow."

"HA," was her only response, as she smiled and nodded her goodbye and strode over to Cragen's office to deliver her final report for him to look over and sign, and submit to record. She knocked on his door; he looked up and crooked his fingers to indicate she should come in.

"Nice work, Shepard," he complimented neutrally, when she dropped the file on his desk neatly and started to slip on her heavy leather coat, resting her purse in a chair opposite his desk. She gave him a look that said she appreciated the compliment.

"You going to do follow ups on this case?" he asked, mildly interested.

Jenny looked at him impassively. Sometimes, SVU detectives performed follow ups on past victims to see if they had moved on, or if not moved on, at least come to terms and were doing okay. Often, this was done in cases with children, and more often than not, what they found was unsatisfactory.

"Honestly, I don't think it will be necessary," she mused fairly, and a small smile touched her lips again. "But I will. Maybe I want to see a kid who takes adversity and turns it into a hell of an advantage."

"Wouldn't it be nice," agreed Cragen, only a little bitterly, as he sat back and relaxed, his hands behind his head. He looked at her in a way that made her pause, and she cocked her head at him, her eyes inquiring.

"There somethin' on my face?"

"I got a call from NCIS today," he said, smiling a little at her teasing question and leaning forward, crossing his arms and support his weight. "Agent Mike Franks again."

Jenny snorted.

"He doesn't like me," she laughed.

"Huh, that must be why he offered you a job."

Her eyes widened a little and she froze in fixing her scarf, unsure if she'd heard him correctly.

"He…what?"

Cragen nodded.

"Said if you ever wanted to play with the big kids, there was a place on his team. Claimed he could use an agent who had a kid glove on her hand for dealing with victims."

Jenny slowly finished adjusting her coat, her lips parted slightly as she digested his words. Cragen looked at her impassively and she tilted her head, grinning a little after a moment. She lifted her purse and slipped it over her shoulder.

"Shucks, that old bastard couldn't handle me," she quipped, drawing a smirk from Cragen. "I'll give a call, tell 'im he'd give me the boot in a day and a half, tops," she continued, shrugging comfortably as her captain gave her an interested look. "SVU is where I belong, Cap'n. I know these crimes, I know these horrors. They're my horrors too."

She gave him a wry look and lifted a shoulder.

"Maybe it's not healthy to choose a profession that only pits me against the worst thing that ever happened to me, but I'm good at it. I'm not leaving SVU."

She meant it. She really did; she loved it here. She hated the crimes, but she loved the people she worked with, and she loved the feeling she got when she saved a kid from an abusive parent or relative and made him or her smile again.

Cragen gave her a nod.

"I'm glad to hear it, Jenny," he said sincerely, standing up and offering her his hand. She shook it warmly and fumbled for her keys and leather gloves in her purse, preparing herself for the snowy brittle cold out wintry Washington DC.

She bowed out gracefully, and she took the scenic route to her Georgetown brownstone, still noticeable as the only one devoid of cheery Christmas lights. She unlocked her door, fixed herself a steaming cup of coffee, and ran a hot bath to go with it.

As she shut off the running water with her foot, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes, basking in the relaxing warmth of the harmless bath and the quiet, safe comfort of her home. She did feel good about what she'd done for Kelly—and she gave herself due credit, because Kelly awarded her with it first.

What had happened between herself and Jethro last night was probably something that would not be addressed again; she thought, as she rested in the bubbles, perhaps it was better if it weren't. If discussed, it would just produce a feeling that "something" ought to be done when there was nothing that should be, when it came down to it. It should be forgotten—forgiven, if that's what was needed—rather than analytically defined.

She knew innately this wasn't the last she'd seen of Kelly Gibbs, and she was glad of it. She liked Kelly—hell, she liked Jethro too. There was an underlying attraction between her and the man that, well, in a different world—could have been.

She was content with the unfolding of the recent events. Possibilities lurked, and reconstruction and repair were in the future for Kelly. Jenny was willing to accept being a part of that; it was soothing to her to know that she'd been something important to that little girl, something she herself had been deprived of—had never known—when she was suffering rape at the hands of her caretaker.

Kids like Kelly, redemption like that, was why she did the job she did. Somebody had to.

* * *

**Wednesday December 15th 1993. Home of Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Kelly Gibbs, and Elizabeth Gibbs. 11:21 p.m.**

Kelly, carrying the old cardboard box with her, sat down cross-legged opposite Jethro on their living room floor, placing the object gently down in front of her. She looked up and smiled with her tongue between her teeth.

"I like it when she falls asleep on you. It's so cute," she remarked, looking at her little sister.

Elizabeth was fast asleep in Jethro's lap. He supported her head with one arm and rested his hand delicately and protectively on the crown of her brunette head. He smiled softly and looked at his eldest daughter.

"You used to do it, too."

"Well Lizzy _stole_ my place," retorted Kelly smartly.

She pulled the box towards her and fiddled with the flaps that would open it, the look on her face curious. Jethro had offered to let her stay home from school tomorrow, but she had declined. Now he was torn between forcing her to go to bed and letting her make that decision on her own. By this point, she'd be tired as hell anyway.

"Is this box some sort of early Christmas present?" Kelly asked, tilting her head at him.

"You can open it, Kel, it's not a secret," he answered.

"Is it a Pony?"

Jethro laughed. He shook his head fondly and nodded at the box.

"It's some stuff Jenny put together for you," he said mildly.

Kelly perked up, her eyes brightening. She looked down at the box and opened it carefully, examining the contents before she started to pull them out and admire them one by one. Jethro cringed when the first thing she pulled out was the Dolly Parton tape.

Kelly looked it over and smiled, picking up the other two tapes and devoting some attention to them as well.

"Daddy, why is this band named after the lake of the underworld from Greek mythology?" she asked, holding up Jenny's old STYX tape. Jethro gave his offspring one of the looks she always got when she said something above his pay grade and way too smart for her age.

"They thought it sounded cool," he responded dryly.

Kelly giggled, tilting her head at the tape. She looked over the Elton John one, her eyes scanning the songs with interest.

"You have to listen to that one in your room with the door locked and only when I'm in the basement," he told her, nodding at the Dolly Parton tape. Kelly raised her eyebrows, amused.

"Why?"

"Because she scares me."

"You're silly, Daddy."

He smirked. Elizabeth stuck her thumb in her mouth and shifted in his lap, burrowing down in his arms. He uncrossed his legs to give her more room, looking down briefly to check on her.

"Oh, look at all these books!"

Kelly's admiring exclamation drew his attention back to her. She had indeed discovered the many books Jenny had thrown in the box, in good condition, but clearly worn. The one Kelly was holding had _Jennifer Shepard_ scrawled across it in frilly writing, and a smiley face drawn next to it. Kelly giggled.

"I don't think Jenny liked Shakespeare," Kelly remarked, showing Jethro the cover, and pointing. "She drew a mustache on this guy."

Jethro didn't blame here. The cover indentified the particular play as _King Lear_. He vaguely remembered being forced to read it in high school. Kelly started flicking through it and her eyes lit up.

"She made comments all through it," she said with a smile, laughing some. Jethro smiled as well, figuring he could trust Jenny not to have given his kid something that had vulgar stuff written all through it.

Kelly set the book aside and went to the others in her lap, examining them gently.

"Mommy had this book," Kelly said suddenly, holding up _Pride and Prejudice_. She turned it back around to look at it. "She kept it with _Jane Eyre_. I have it in my room. I haven't read it though. I keep saving it."

She fell silent and flipped through the book, moving on to some others that had the same design as that one. She held up a different one after a moment, smirking.

"You know what this book is famous for?" she asked, tapping _Gone with the Wind_.

He shook his head, raising his eyebrow to show he was interested.

"It's the movie really—it has the most famous quote ever and the first curse word they every allowed in a film! And they had to pay ten thousand dollars just to be allowed to do it," she informed him matter-of-factly.

"Damn," Jethro remarked without meaning too. He winced; resisting the urge to cover Elizabeth's sleeping ears.

Kelly grinned.

"That was the one," she told him, setting aside that book as well. She left two books in her lap, took out a pile of _Rolling Stone_ magazines and checked out the numerous famous rock bands and celebrities gracing the cover. Jethro wondered if he needed to check through the content of those before she read them.

It probably wouldn't do any good though. She read things so fast he couldn't keep up. She'd probably slipped quite a few inappropriate novels under his nose. Kelly lifted a VHS out of the box and looked at it curiously, looking up at Jethro.

"I think I've seen this movie," she said, her eyes a little faraway as she attempted to remember. Jethro hesitated. He looked at the VHS and then up at Kelly, clearing his throat.

"You watched it with me and Shannon a couple nights before I left for Kuwait," he said gruffly. "Lizzy was tiny. We covered your eyes during part of it."

"Oh," Kelly nodded, realizing crossing her blue eyes. "I remember," she paused, looking at him quizzically. "Was it her favorite move?"

He shook his head.

"_Footloose_," He grunted. "You saw it too, kiddo. She was pregnant when we saw it."

Kelly nodded.

"I knew it was a dancing movie. I figured you'd know, anyway," she remarked, setting aide _Dirty Dancing_. She looked at it, chewing on her lip. "Can we watch it again?" she asked, looking at Jethro.

He gave her a wary look. He really wasn't sure he wanted to watch Patrick Swayze grind on a bunch of women with his daughter.

"You might have more fun watching that with Jenny," he remarked mildly.

"She can come over and watch it?" Kelly asked, tilting her head with interest. He shrugged. He didn't mind of Kelly wanted to have a woman she could call up to chat with once in a while. There really was no one else. Well, there was Abby, but somehow, he didn't think Abby would work.

Kelly beamed and returned to the books in her lap, looking over one and then the other. She opened the Emerson poems and Jethro looked back down at Elizabeth, watching her sleep peacefully for a moment. She twitched her nose in her sleep constantly, a trait inherited from Shannon.

He heard a small gasp and a soft jingling and looked up, only to find Kelly setting the book on her knee and reaching out on the carpet to pick up a few pieces of something that glinted in the light.

"What's that, Kel?" he asked, narrowing his eyes to look.

Kelly didn't answer right away. She picked up the pieces and flattened her palm, showing him a fragmented, fragile silver chain and a few chipped, one smashed, charms in the shape of purple flowers. It seemed vaguely familiar.

"It's Jenny's bracelet," she said quietly. Jethro gave her a curious look. She tilted her head at the pieces, touching one flower gentle with her index finger. "You know the necklace she always wears, Daddy? With the orchid on it?"

Jethro nodded, furrowing his brow. A memory of it against her bare skin assaulted his eyes and he blinked it away rapidly. She did, come to think of it, wear that damn necklace all the time. It looked like Kelly knew why.

"Her partner—that guy, Mr. Munch, gave her the orchid necklace when she started working at SVU, she said to replace this," Kelly said helpfully, holding up the broken bracelet. "Her Dad gave her this before he died, and she said—um, that the man who raped her broke it to tiny pieces when he did it, and orchids were her favorite flower."

Jethro swallowed, nodding his head slowly while she talked. He would be a hundred bucks Jenny had never meant for that bracelet to end up in Kelly's hands, or anywhere outside of the darkest corner of her home, for that matter. She must have forgotten it was tucked in her book.

"She said she called him the Orchid Thief, but she also said she never should have let him take away the things she loved," Kelly mumbled.

"Kelly," Jethro said gently, his attention sharpening when she said that. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and thoughtful, and he considered his next words carefully. "She's right. Jenny's right—"

"I'm not going to let the Rat King ruin _anything_," Kelly interrupted, defensively and a little angrily. Jethro held his tongue for just a moment. Then, he gave her one word:

"Ballet."

Kelly seemed to shrink a little. She looked down at Jenny's broken bracelet and bit her lip.

"Oh," she murmured.

She hadn't been back to ballet since, even though Maddie had asked her to and Mr. DiCovaggio had dropped by to give her pictures and a tape of the recital, and talk to her a little. Jethro had taken Jenny's advice and refused to push her, but she'd missed four classes, and ballet had always been the highlight of her week.

"He hasn't taken ballet away," she muttered, defensive again.

"Honey, you won't go to ballet," Jethro said gently.

"I thought," she said, and paused, biting her lip. She stared at Jenny's bracelet. "I haven't felt like it. I keep having nightmares where I'm dancing, and I look out in the audience, and you're not watching me anymore, he is."

Jethro felt somewhat like he'd been sucker punched in the gut. He tightened his grip on Elizabeth and she made a sleepy noise of protest, shifting in his arms again.

"Kelly, I'll make you a promise," he said hoarsely. "I will be at every single performance you do from now on—no matter _what_, I swear, if you promise me you won't let what happened to you ruin how much you love ballet. I know you love it. You might stop having those dreams if you go back to dance and prove he _didn't_ take that away."

Kelly looked up from the bracelet and smiled hesitantly.

"Even if I get a part in the Russian Ballet someday? And the performances are _three_ hours?" she asked slyly.

"Swear on my word as a marine."

Kelly smiled, and Jethro noted triumphantly that he'd averted tears, and he'd made her happy, he could tell. She nodded sagely.

"I like that idea, Daddy," she complimented, smiling softly. "I'll go back to ballet Thurs—tomorrow," she changed suddenly. Her smile brightened. "That's tomorrow!"

Jethro smiled. He relaxed again and leaned back against the couch, lifting Elizabeth off of his lap and supporting her against his shoulder instead. She immediately wrapped her small arms around his neck. It was about time for her to be tucked into bed for the night, so there wasn't a risk run of waking her up and setting her off.

"Um, Dad?" Kelly asked gently, looking up and biting her lip. He looked at her, waiting for her to go on. She closed her fingers over Jenny's bracelet and unfolded her legs, resting her arms on her knees. "On Christmas, after we do presents and go to church, can I ask Jenny to come over? I don't want her to be alone on Christmas."

Jethro looked at his daughter for a moment and then smiled wryly, impressed as always with her kindness and generosity towards others. He stood up, careful with Lizzy, and nodded slowly with a casual shrug.

"I don't see why not," he remarked. Kelly got up swiftly, looking at Elizabeth. She looked a lot happier now. Jethro nodded his head towards the hallway, indicating it was time to put Lizzy to bed. They usually did it together anyway, it made it easier if Elizabeth was under the impression Kelly was okay with bedtime.

"Are you going to get Lizzy-beth a tricycle for Christmas?" Kelly asked interestedly. Jethro glared at her playfully.

"No. _Santa's_ getting her a trike."

Kelly giggled quietly and rolled her eyes.

"Daddy, if you and Santa are really different people, why am I still not the owner of a pony?" she asked smartly.

Jethro smirked and shook his head. Yeah, too damn smart for her own good, and he was proud of her. He'd had to dive across the living room and cover Lizzy's ears when Kelly had come home and announced she didn't believe in Santa.

Kelly gave him a suspicious look and wriggled ahead of him in the hall. He let out a quiet breath of relief, resting his hand on Elizabeth's back. For a moment, things felt a little normal, and it gave him hope that things would get back in the 'normal' swing soon—that is, as normal as things could ever be.


	11. The Eleventh

_A/N: Watching the 'A Christmas Story' marathon on TBS is, indeed, a tradition at my house. What a delightful movie. _

* * *

**Christmas Morning 1993 (December 25th). Home of Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Kelly Gibbs, and Elizabeth Gibbs. 7:02 a.m.**

Leroy Jethro Gibbs enjoyed a good two minutes of peaceful, post-seven o'clock sleep on Christmas morning before a full thirty-seven pounds of three-year-old attacked his back.

"DADDY! WAKE-UP!"

In keeping with tradition of all prematurely awoken fathers, he snored loudly and pretended to still be asleep, wincing as Elizabeth dug her petite knees into his back and crawled all over him, ignorant of his body's protests.

He heard an excited giggle, even with his face shoved under a pillow, and Elizabeth attempted to tickle him awake, her small hands poking insistently at his ribcage.

"Daddy, SANTA CAME!" shrieked Lizzy, shaking him. "Kelly says we has to wait until you get up, so I come to wake you!" she rambled, losing the grammatical prowess Kelly tried so hard to instill in her.

Jethro continued snoring mechanically. He smiled to himself. This was definitely his favorite part of Christmas. Yeah, even better than watching them open their presents. He listened to an annoyed sigh, signaling the arrival of Kelly. He could practically see her hands on her hips.

"Lizzy, I said _wait_ for Daddy to wake up!" she admonished, rolling her eyes at her baby sister. Jeez, as if Daddy wasn't tired enough. He had been working a lot lately, and spending every free moment with them, and he kept worrying about Kelly even when she ordered him to stop. Lizzy didn't have to go wake him up.

"He did! He's woke up!"

"Yeah, because you jumped on him," Kelly retorted, prancing into the room further and leaning on the bed. She peered into Jethro's face and he opened one eye, smirking. She giggled.

"Kelly's bossy," Elizabeth informed no one in particular.

Jethro reached up behind him and snatched Elizabeth, making her scream in surprise. He growled playfully at her and started tickling her back, until her cheeks turned pink from laughing and she was feebly kicking at his chest.

"Don't listen to your sister, Liz, she used to creep in here and throw ice at us until we got up," he informed the youngest, earning a gasp of horror from Kelly.

"DID NOT!"

"Yeah, you did _too_, munchkin," growled Jethro with a smirk, noting the mortified look on polite little Kelly's face. And it used to piss Shannon off, too, water all in the sheets—not that they could stay mad at their daughter on Christmas.

The information pleased Elizabeth more than it should have.

"Ha-ha, Kelly!" she gloated, squirming away from Jethro. Kelly caught her as she attempted to kill herself rolling off the bed, and Jethro rubbed his eyes, sitting up. Immediately, Elizabeth flopped out of Kelly's grip, stood, grabbed Jethro's elbow, and stomped her foot.

"Come. ON. DADDY!" she ordered, sticking out her bottom lip pleadingly. He snorted and waved his hand, nodded.

"Go, go, pick out your first present, I'll be there in a sec," he relented. Elizabeth clapped her hands and scampered off. Kelly smiled at Jethro and followed her, throwing an offhanded 'good morning, Daddy' over her shoulder.

Jethro got up and threw the sheets up, half-making the bed. He went into the bathroom and threw water on his face, shrugging sleep off and blinking to clear his sluggish head. He left on his t-shirt and old drawstring sleep pants and moseyed into the living room.

Kelly had turned the tree on, and was sitting nearly next to it by the fireplace with a present in her lap. It looked like Elizabeth had taken a swan dive into her stack and scattered them everywhere, but at this moment, she was smiling a mile wide smile, perched on the new red tricycle 'Santa' had promised.

"Look what I got! Look, Daddy!" she called happily, ringing the small bell. Jethro grinned and collapsed on the couch, running his hand back through his short hair as he looked at them both. Their Christmas haul might be lacking in what he and Shannon together would have been able to provide—or compared to what Joanne had shamelessly showered on them—but when he'd retired from the USMC before serving twenty years in order to raise them, he'd forfeited his pension and NCIS was the only income. Thankfully, the US did provide health care, due to his injury in Kuwait, as well as a monetary stipend monthly that he valued—for the kids' sake rather than his—more than the purple heart it came with.

They looked happy, though, and that was enough for him.

Elizabeth had jumped off the bike and darted for another present, all but ripping the paper off with her teeth. Kelly giggled and watched her, her eyes bright.

"Open yours, Kel," Jethro coaxed, tired of her selflessness. He wished she'd just enjoy herself for once, instead of trying to make sure everyone else was okay first. Didn't she deserve that?

Kelly smiled at him and started opening hers carefully, tossing the paper into a neat pile. Jethro was rather proud of the wrapping job, considering Abby and Mike had been recruited to help wrap in a secret summit last night after the girls had gone to bed.

Things had calmed down after the dénouement of Logan Grey's trial and death, but had not reverted to peaceful "normalcy". Kelly hadn't handled school well, even though she'd insisted on going right back. She claimed the teachers treated her like she was "glass" and wanted her to talk to counselors, and she said Maddie was the only one who acted "normal". He didn't know what to do about it. She'd come home early, crying, and wouldn't talk to him Thursday, and Friday he'd ended up just picking her up early from a Christmas party when she'd called him.

She had started a fight with him a few days ago, something so uncharacteristic of her that had resulted in her shouting at him to 'shut-up'. He was at a loss on how to handle discipline in this situation, because he didn't want to be insensitive, but he wasn't going to tolerate disrespect like that.

It was difficult. Lizzy was starting to pick up more alertly on things that had gone wrong, and asked Kelly occasional questions that made Kelly cry or get very quiet for a while, even if she was still kind to her sister. The day after Joanne had taken Kelly on her shopping trip (and returned her with dresses, ballet shoes, and all kinds of girly treasures that overwhelmed him), Kelly had asked if it was okay to go to lunch with Jenny.

He had let her, and Kelly had seemed in a much better mood the next few days. She spend a few days of her vacation at work with him, playing in Abby's lab, because he had worked almost nonstop lately, even if it bothered him.

There was a lot of stress.

Seeing them carefree, opening their presents, relieved a lot of it, particularly when Kelly, discovering the My Little Pony lunch box he'd gotten her, squealed in excitement just like a kid her age should.

Mike Franks—that cat, not his boss—leapt gracefully onto Jethro's lap and Jethro glared at the feline, warning it to go away. It purred at him menacingly and reluctantly he scratched its ears. It was the only way to get Mike Franks to leave him alone.

Content with the gesture, Mike Franks settled next to Jethro on his stomach, watching his owner with yellow eyes and flicking his tail creepily.

"OW!" Kelly protested suddenly, touching her head and glaring at her sister. Elizabeth ducked behind the Christmas tree and smirked, the culprit of having just thrown a new green soccer ball at her sister.

"Lizzy, do you really want that taken away before you even get to use it?" asked Jethro sternly, giving her a narrow look.

"I told her 'heads up'!" protested Elizabeth, rolling her eyes in a small imitation of Kelly. Jethro smiled in a small way and pointed at Kelly.

"Apologize."

"Sorry, KK."

"It's okay," Kelly said sweetly, picking up the ball and holding it out in a friendly way. Lizzy reached out to take it and Kelly threw it at her gently.

"What goes around comes around!"

"Kelly," admonished Jethro exasperatedly.

"What? She _liked_ it," Kelly retorted, shrugging. Elizabeth was giggling madly, hugging the green soccer ball.

"You two behave, or we're going to gramma's," he threatened.

Proper behavior immediately graced the living room and he snorted. He briefly imagined being punched in the shoulder by Shannon for that comment. Kelly gasped. She looked up at Jethro, her eyes shining, and beamed, holding up a boxed set of Angelina Ballerina books.

"Daddy, you found it!" she complimented, admiring the box set, complete with a stuffed doll of the picture books' heroine. She had mentioned having all the books in a set but could never find one. Shannon had read them to her since she was very little.

He shrugged.

"Wasn't _that_ hard," he answered airily, and Kelly leapt up, running over to him and placing a kiss on his cheek. He guessed it was a good thing Lizzy wasn't paying attention to ask why Kelly wasn't thanking Santa. He hugged Kelly briefly and gently pushed her back to her presents.

"Kelly, Mermaid," Elizabeth said happily, presenting a VHS of the Little Mermaid to her sister with a bright smile. Kelly grabbed Elizabeth and pulled her into her lap, and Jethro watched contentedly as the continued to open presents, this time together.

The stockings had been the most un-brilliant plan ever; he had asked Tony, Mike, and Abby for ideas on stuffers, and all of them had contributed candy. He could see any semblance of peace in his home unraveling as Elizabeth dumped her candy on the floor and began squealing.

"Hey! No candy until after breakfast!" he ordered suddenly, intercepting Elizabeth's sneaky attempt to eat Twizzlers after she'd unceremoniously ripped open the package.

"Tell breakfast to hurry up!" Elizabeth retorted smartly, giving him a playful look.

Jethro sat forward, absently scratching Mike Franks' ears again, and rested his elbows on his knees, surveying the paper-strewn living room. They each had two or three more gifts to open, but Kelly would draw it out and Lizzy simply probably hadn't noticed there were more.

"What do you want for breakfast?"

"Pasketti," Lizzy informed him seriously.

"Chocolate chip pancakes," corrected Kelly, smiling eagerly at the idea of her request.

"YUM!" Elizabeth agreed, nodding. He laughed and stood up, starting towards the kitchen.

"Maybe we'll have pasketti for dinner, troublemaker," he said to Lizzy.

"Pasketti!" cried Elizabeth gladly. He heard a thump, and decided not to ask what it was until someone started crying. No one did, and he went about making breakfast expertly. They had plenty of time to enjoy a damn good Christmas morning before he tried to get an over-excited Elizabeth to sit quietly through church.

He was busy mixing chocolate chips into pancake batter when he heard whispering, which made him slightly suspicious. He started to back up to where he could see what they were doing, when Elizabeth scampered into the kitchen, wrapped herself around his leg, and looked up at him with a shy smile.

"Daddy," she whispered secretively, "c'mere, c'mon."

She beckoned her hand, inching away and smiling. She giggled, still waving him back towards the living room earnestly.

"What, hon?" he asked, reaching to set the cooking stuff he was using down and following her. She whirled around, giggling louder, and darted around the corner.

"Issa secret!" she hissed covertly.

Jethro traipsed after her cautiously. He made it halfway around the corner into the living room when Kelly snatched his hand and dragged him impulsively over to the couch, pushing him down to sit. Mike Franks, who was contented batting around a stuffed mouse that Kelly insisted be given to him for Christmas, looked at Jethro eerily.

"I thought you wanted pancakes," he stated.

"Lizzy can wait," Kelly said, dashing down the hall to her room. Jethro peered at Lizzy pointedly, narrowing his eyes.

"What's going on, Liz?"

Elizabeth scrambled up onto the couch next to him and knelt, shaking her head sternly and pressing her fingers to her lips.

"Kelly says don't tell you," she informed him. She shifted onto her butt and leaned on him, grinning up at him mischievously. He gave her a withering glare that she knew meant no harm but she still dutifully covered her little blue eyes.

"Did you miss me?" Kelly asked gallantly, waltzing back into the room. "Lizzy, get up, you're helping me," she ordered, placing one hand on her hip as she set a paper bag down at her feet.

Elizabeth bounced off the couch and took her faithful place next to her sister, taking her hand and swinging it happily. She eagerly peered into the bag and jumped up excitedly as Kelly reached in with the hand that had been on her hip and pulled out first and envelope and a tissue-wrapped object.

"Girls…" he growled menacingly.

Kelly insistently poked Elizabeth.

Elizabeth sprung forward and presented the two items to Jethro, leaning over his knee.

"Merry Christmas Daddy!" She placed the stuff in his lap and held out the card eagerly, shaking his knee some. "Daddy, look at the card, Kelly let me make it all by myself and I only made some of the letters squirmy, she held my hand when I writed!"

He heard Kelly mutter 'wrote' under her breath and smiled, taking the offered card gently and opening it carefully. He pulled out the childish, colourful folded card and smirked at the image of a Christmas tree drawn next to words that wished him a merry Christmas and were, indeed, not that squirmy. He looked at Elizabeth's earnest, cute drawings with a half-smile and reached out to ruffle her hair fondly, causing her to bury her head in his knee bashfully.

He opened the card, read the 'we love you, Daddy' and their signed names, and held the card as he stared at it for a minute. Gently, Elizabeth reached up and pushed the other thing at him, nudging it with her small hands and giving him an eager look.

"Open," she ordered, and she left no room for argument. He glanced at Kelly, who still guarded her paper bag, and tugged off the neat tissue paper on the rectangular object he held. He flipped over the picture frame when it was free. He wasn't prepared for what he saw, and his brow creased.

"Where did you find this?" he asked after a minute, staring at the picture of himself and Shannon not long before they were married. He looked like he'd just gotten back from base in his Marine early days. His uniform was unbuttoned and wrinkled, his backpack was on the lawn by his feet, his cover was…on Shannon's head.

He remembered that day. He'd gotten home from a month and a half at Parris Island. He'd surprised her at home and she'd snatched the cap off his head and jumped on his back, hugging him tightly. In the picture, she was biting his ear playfully, and her nose was wrinkled.

_Jethro! Jethro, you better be glad I'm still yours. That good lookin' pilot's still after me!_

_What's his name again? _

_Nobody. –kiss- Can't remember, LJ, was too busy thinkin' bout how tight you'd hold me if you thought I might run off. –kiss-_

_Missed you, Shan._

_Not as much as I missed you, stupid. I'm a woman, we have more feelings._

Jethro looked up at Kelly rather than Elizabeth for an answer, shaking the memories. He resisted the urge to wince when he met Kelly's eyes and remembered they were, almost to the flecks in her irises, Shannon's eyes.

He'd never seen this picture.

"Oh, Gramma Jo found it," Kelly answered softly. "She said she took it before she yelled at Mommy to stop making a fool of herself," Kelly laughed and busied herself with the bag at her feet. "I thought you would like it. Mr. Franks always teases you for having so many pictures of me 'n' Lizzy, so we got you one of you and Mom."

She crouched to pull something out of the bag, and Jethro was still reeling from the flashback the picture had assaulted him with.

"Like it, Daddy?" Elizabeth asked, peeking at him from his knee. He looked at her and nodded, cupping her chin sincerely.

"I love it, sweetheart."

Elizabeth perked up and scrambled up next to him again. He rested the frame on his thigh and put his arm around her. She laughed. Kelly placed something much heavier on his knees and put her hand on it matter-of-factly.

"When we sent you those chips you like when you were in Panama, Mommy said you get someone you love two things: one for your heart, one for your hands. That's for your heart," Kelly said, tapping the picture. She patted the heavy metal she'd placed on his knee and pulled a blanket of Lizzy's off of it. "This is for your hands."

He blinked at the toolbox sitting on his lap.

"You two are in _big_ trouble," he growled suddenly, his voice hoarse. He wasn't supposed to get gifts from his daughters, they were supposed to enjoy a completely selfish, exciting Christmas and he was supposed to love watching that.

"No!" Lizzy whimpered.

"He's kidding, sissy, he's mad we got him presents."

"Everybody loves presents!" Lizzy informed Jethro.

Jethro pointed at Kelly menacingly. This was all her idea and he knew it. Adorable little instigator of kindness. She smiled at him and punched his knee gently, drawing a laugh from her sister.

"Daddy, your tools are a zillion years old," she giggled. "You deserve it."

"You weren't suppose—"

"I wanted to," Kelly interrupted softly. "Because you're worried about me, and trying to help, and I yelled at you and was rude."

"Kelly," he said slowly, shaking his head. "Kelly, I'm just glad you're safe."

Kelly smiled, her cheeks flushing.

"Can you just open the tools and like them please, _darling_?" Kelly asked, narrowing her eyes at him and affecting a perfect imitation of a Shannon-esque irritated tone. He couldn't help but laugh, even if he sort of felt like crying.

He unbuckled the box and opened it, focusing on the new tools. It was a testament to his obsession that he wanted to throw Lizzy off his lap and dash down to the boat to start working on her with these babies.

"Hey. You. Come here," he ordered, setting the box aside after a moment and beckoning to Kelly. She crept forward and he snatched her into a hug at the same time he snatched up Lizzy, squishing their heads together gently. "Thank you," he mumbled sincerely, letting them go.

He touched first Kelly's, and then Elizabeth's head as if blessing them and gave them both a good, hard look.

"You two are the most important things in the world to me, okay? Don't you forget it. It's rule number three."

"Rule number three is never date a lumberjack," Kelly informed him with a laugh.

"No. New rules. Never date a lumberjack is now number one, and it has an amendment: The Gibbs girls never date anyone, because boys are gross. Trust me," both of them giggled at the serious look on his face.

"Two?" Elizabeth asked, cocking her head.

"Two is I love you more than the boat. No matter what Gramma says. Now, who wants the leftover chocolate chips-?"

Two little girls immediately straightened, smiles gracing their faces. It had been such a good morning for Kelly; he couldn't have asked for better and it was barely past eight. He stood up, swinging Lizzy up into his arms and giving Kelly a permissive nod to lead the way.

"You know rule eight, kiddo?" he asked Elizabeth, lifting his brow. He grinned as he heard Kelly shout it; Lizzy was too young to remember, but Kelly knew it by heart, it had been her favorite to hear shouted across the house whenever Jethro broke it.

"DO NOT TOUCH MY EARS, JETHRO!"

She screamed it from the kitchen in Shannon's irritated voice, and Jethro kissed Lizzy's forehead as she burst into giggles and grabbed his ear. Their Christmas content made up the entire list of what it took to make him happy. And with Kelly acting herself and hanging on to some of the happiest moments of her life, it didn't even hurt so much to miss Shannon.

* * *

**Christmas Morning/Noon (December 25th). 1993. Home of Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Kelly Gibbs, and Elizabeth Gibbs. 11:56 a.m.**

Jethro glared at Elizabeth as she leapt out of the car, freed from her car seat by an overly excited Kelly, and landed in a wet carpet of snow, dirtying up her Sunday dress without a second thought.

"Hey," he growled, picking her up swiftly to protect her from the cold (and that nice dress from the dirty snow). She smiled sweetly at him and he narrowed his eyes, shaking his head as she pulled the door shut firmly. "What am I gonna do with you, you tomboy?"

"I want out of the dress, Daddy," she informed him.

"Geez," he muttered, fumbling with his house key as Kelly scampered up to the porch and tapped her foot impatiently. "I know you don't like 'em, baby, but Granpa got you this one, not Gramma Jo. No need to ruin it."

Elizabeth responded by lifting her foot and tugging off her one of her Mary Janes, giving Jethro a pained look. He laughed under his breath and grunted in mild protest when Kelly snatched the keys from him, unlocked the door, and darted in.

"Can I call her now, Daddy? If it keeps snowing, the roads will get too bad," Kelly said, peeking out of the kitchen with a cordless phone in her hands. Jethro kicked the front door shut, nodding and letting Lizzy down. She immediately dashed into her room, losing the other Mary Jane halfway there.

"Yeah, yeah, go ahead, Kel," he said to Kelly, giving the path Lizzy had taken a suspicious look.

They had behaved remarkably well in church. Elizabeth had even submitted to kisses and cheek-pinching without resorting to putting on her angry puppy dog act and growling at the old women who admired her. Jethro had never been one for church; that had been Shannon's thing, but when she'd died he had picked up out of respect for her: she wanted her daughters exposed to religion.

He knew Kelly had been itching to get out of the stuffy service and call Jenny, and he hadn't forgotten his promise to let her invite the detective over, he just wondered how Jenny could react to such.

He had always been concerned when it became clear how much Kelly liked Jenny—how attached she was—because he doubted the depth of her care for Kelly, considering it was part of the job to make victims feel safe and provide some comfort to them. There was sincerity in Jenny though, and real kindness that you just didn't find in many people in anymore. He thought it proved strongly that he could trust the redhead not to disappoint Kelly when she'd taken Kelly to lunch without a second thought.

"Eeee-liiiiiiiz-a-beeeethhhh," Jethro called eerily, wandering down the hall to her nursery slowly. He heard laugher and paused outside the door, peeking in.

"DADDY!" she cried, squealing and holding her hands up. "I'm gettin' dressed, DON'T LOOK!" she hissed, putting her hands on her hips.

"Okay, okay," he muttered, leaning against the wall outside his room. He crossed his arms and whistled game show tunes. Elizabeth giggled in amusement, taking her own sweet time. He doubted she knew how to get the buttons undone on her dress.

Kelly pranced into the hall and stopped when she witnessed Jethro's antics.

"Daddy, what are you doing?"

"Waiting for thing number two to put clothes on," he responded seriously. Kelly smiled. She held up the cordless.

"Jenny says she can come over. I told her you didn't mind; she was worried about that. Is it okay if I call Maddie and see what she got for Christmas?"

"Yeah," he answered. "Don't be on the phone for longer than ten minutes."

"Um, ten minutes from when I dial or when Maddie say hello?"

"Kelly," he warned half-heartedly, and she grinned, darting into her own bedroom and leaving the door cracked. He smirked and shook his head. He had a feeling that, when she was a teenager, he was going to have to write specific laws detailing every _single_ thing or else Kelly would just walk through a loophole.

She was a kid who refused to lie or disobey, but loopholes were her best friends.

"'Kay, you can look now," Elizabeth announced, jumping out of her room. She placed her hands on her hips, holding in her fingers a brand new colouring book as well as an unopened box of coloured pencils and grinned at him toothily.

He was impressed. She was fully dressed, and the only thing on backwards was her sweatshirt, but he didn't blame her. It took him about eighteen months to learn how to dress Kelly without Shannon rolling her eyes and snatching the baby away.

"Nice," he complimented.

She smirked proudly and then thrust the box of coloured pencils towards him, jumping excitedly again and snatching his free hand with her now empty one. She pulled insistently towards the living area.

"Colour," she announced matter-of-factly. "Daddy, we're gonna colour."

"Uh-oh," he muttered, allowing himself to be unceremoniously yanked toward the table, where Lizzy climbed up into a chair, knelt, and flipped open her new colouring book. She pointed to the blank paper pages and patted the seat she was sitting in. "I'm bad at this, remember?"

Elizabeth shook her head wildly; the soft curls Kelly had twirled into her brunette hair bouncing wildly.

"Nuh-_uh_, Kelly thinks you're bad, not _me_, I like your colours," she informed him, batting her eyelashes. He snorted. Charming. "Kelly's the one who says you suck."

Jethro gave her a sharp look, wrapping his arm around her waist and effortlessly lifting her so he could sit down and give her the advantage of sitting on his lap. He caught her eye though, and lifted his eyebrow.

"Elizabeth, that's rude. Don't say it."

"How come Kelly gets to?"

"Because life is not fair."

Elizabeth stuck her tongue out at him and then turned her attention raptly to the colouring book, tapping his hand and pointing to the box of pencils, indicating he should open them. She busied herself flipping through the book until she found a page she wanted. Jethro coaxed the pencils onto the table, careful not to let them go rolling off.

"You colour this one," Elizabeth said sweetly, tapping the picture on the left. "I'll colour this one. Hand me blue?"

Jethro obliged and looked forlornly down at the pony he was supposed to colour. He wasn't sure if he should start with the rainbow it was prancing on or the butterflies making a halo around its head. It occurred to him he wouldn't have this choice inflicted if he had bought her a Spiderman colouring book instead, considering Lizzy coloured on…everything.

He picked up dark green, the manliest colour he could find, and attempted to start colouring the pony's fluffy tail, but Elizabeth poked his hand and gasped in outrage.

"Ponies are orange and yellow and pink!" she insisted, flicking the green pencil away from him. "Colour his tail pink!"

"What if it's a boy pony?"

"Boys can wear pink!"

"Nuh-uh," Jethro responded immaturely.

"Yeah-HUH!" Elizabeth growled back.

"Since when do you give the orders around here, punk?" Jethro asked seriously, going for the pink pencil obediently and giving it a distasteful look before he meekly began to colour the pony at his daughter's request.

He was surprised at how long (meaning beyond five minutes) the activity held Lizzy's attention. He kept his arm loosely around her middle so she wouldn't fall off of his lap, and occasionally stopped colouring aimlessly long enough to watch her. She sang quietly to herself, tilting her head back and forth. He smiled and kissed the top of her head, setting a pencil down and shifting a little.

"Kelly, are you still on the phone?"

He was met by silence, and a few seconds later, Kelly came out of her room. Phoneless.

"No," she answered, certainly and with a smile. He gave her a suspicious look, wondering if she actually thought he didn't know she'd just quickly hung up. Kelly came over and looked at what they were doing, smiled, and pranced into the kitchen. Jethro peeked in to watch her pour herself a glass of apple juice and noted she was still in her Sunday best. _She_ had no problem looking frilly all the time.

"Maddie have a good Christmas?" he asked mildly.

Kelly set her glass down and nodded.

"Maddie got a new G.I. Joe so now we can have another wedding and Barbie won't have to marry someone with a chewed up foot. And she got some make-up kind of like her mom's—oh, and she said her Dad got a cigar, even though he doesn't smoke, and a white stick in the same box, and Maddie's mom said she gets a baby sibling in July."

"Daphne's having another baby?" Jethro asked curiously, glancing over at Kelly. She nodded, taking a sip of her juice.

"Maddie says it's for real this time," Kelly said. Jethro nodded. Maddie's mother had been expecting when Jeff was called to service in Mogadishu, Somalia earlier this year, and she'd suffered a miscarriage when news of how badly the mission had gone reached the States. It was more than lucky that Jeff had come home safe. "That means Maddie's parents had sex," Kelly said matter-of-factly.

"Kelly. Marie. Gibbs. You better _not_ have said that to Maddie," Jethro warned, giving her a look. He had no idea what Maddie understood and what she didn't in that department.

"I _didn't_," Kelly defended. "You said not to talk about it with other kids because it's their parents' job to tell them."

Jethro looked at her for a minute. He nodded affirmatively.

"Can we get a baby?" Elizabeth asked suddenly. "A boy one?"

"Ummmm," Jethro pretended to decide. "_No_."

Elizabeth bared her teeth at him playfully and glared. He glared right back. Kelly giggled, propping one of her legs up in her chair and smiling over her knee at them. Jethro picked up a coloured pencil, smiling, and returned to half-heartedly adding yellow to the butterfly halo in his picture.

"Here, kitty," Kelly cooed, reached down and picking up Mike Franks. She cuddled him in her arms and smiled, burying her nose in the soft fur of the growing kitten.

Jethro thoroughly enjoyed the peace. Kelly was content, he was fairly sure he'd provided them with a good Christmas, and he knew for a fact Elizabeth was thrilled just by listening to her sing _Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star_ repeatedly under her breath.

It was the first really good Christmas in a while. The last good one had been the year Lizzy was born; he'd been home from an assignment in Columbia just in time for her very first Christmas; it had also been the first time he'd seen her. Two months later he was in Kuwait, and then the next Christmas had been the first without Shannon. The second, Joanne had been fighting him for custody. Now this one, marred as it might be by what had happened to Kelly, was more promising than any other.

They all heard the door open, and Jethro looked up warily. He glanced at Kelly, and she just looked back at him uncertainly.

"Um, I don't think Jenny would just walk in…" she began hesitantly. A squeal sounded and a blurry mass of green, black, and red, dashed into the room, jingling profusely. Jethro narrowed his eyes and glared as the human Mike Franks and sidekick, DiNozzo, followed it.

"She wouldn't," he growled.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS GIBBSES!" shrieked Abby, attacking Kelly with a massive hug. Jethro tensed, aware Kelly did not like being grabbed up or unexpectedly touched, but his daughter just giggled and threw her arms around Abby in response.

"I like your outfit!" she complimented, as Abs drew back and flaunted her goth-ified Santa's elves getup.

"ABBY!" screamed Elizabeth excitedly. Jethro winced, turning his hear away. He barely had time to steady her as she attempted to kill herself jumping off his lap at Abby, and he managed to hand her off so she wasn't just jumping with no end support.

"Nice pony, Gibbs," Tony remarked with a snigger, earning a head slap from Mike as he tried to peek sneakily over Jethro's shoulder.

"You're supposed to provide Christmas cheer," growled Mike, as far from 'cheerful' as he could get. Kelly giggled. She jumped out of her chair and skipped over to Mike, still cuddling the cat.

"Remember when I told you about the kitten Daddy bought me?" she asked proudly, lifting her eyebrows. Jethro snorted. Mike crossed his arms and nodded, looking down at the cat suspiciously. Kelly beamed at him.

"Guess what I named him?"

"Frederick," answered Mike, completely seriously. Elizabeth put a hand over her face in exasperation and giggled, shaking her head.

"No," Kelly said, rolling her eyes. "His name is Mike Franks!"

DiNozzo burst into ruthless cackles of laughter.

"Aww," squealed Abby, smiling at Kelly appreciatively. They shared a secretive smile while Mike turned and glared at Jethro, narrowing his eyes.

"You _let_ her name a _cat_ after me?" he growled.

"It's _her_ cat," he snorted, smirking.

"You have no authority, Probie," snapped Mike, but he looked pleased in his bear-like way. He reached down and patted Kelly's kitten gently on its head. It hissed at him. Oddly, Mike looked even more pleased by this turn of events.

"Look at that, its jus' like me!"

"Tony," Elizabeth said loudly, cocking her head at him. He had wandered into the kitchen and was poking around sneakily. Upon hearing his name called, he jumped and looked into the room guiltily.

"Uh, yeah?"

"Did you come over to eat?" she asked sweetly.

"Er."

"DiNozzo goes everywhere to eat," Abby informed the three-year-old brightly, hugging her lovingly and wrinkling her nose up. Elizabeth giggled at the joke as Tony slunk back into the room. Kelly released Mike Franks to the floor and rolled her eyes.

"You can have some of the cookies I made," she offered, darting past him and beckoning towards the kitchen.

"You're my favorite, little Susie-Homemaker," he quipped, following Kelly, pleased.

Jethro abandoned Elizabeth's colouring materials and leaned back in his chair, watching Abby tickle his youngest daughter for a moment before looking impassively at Mike.

"Don't you guys have anything better to do?" he growled.

Mike glared at him. Abby shook her head brightly.

"Oh!" she cried suddenly, her eyes widening. "We brought presents!"

Jethro frowned. He really was starting to get concerned that Kelly and Elizabeth were racking up way too many people to spoil them.

"TONY!" shouted Abby.

Tony answered through a mouthful of food. They heard Kelly's laugher.

"Get the presents! And put your hat on!" Abby turned to Elizabeth and stuck her tongue out playfully. "We're making Tony wear a Santa hat, since the real Santa can't be here," she said.

"You believe in Saaaaanta, Abby?" asked Elizabeth brightly.

"Who doesn't believe in Santa?" gasped Abby, her green eyes wide and expressive. Elizabeth narrowed her eyes and pointed accusingly at Kelly as she pranced out of the kitchen.

"Hey," Jethro said quietly. He shook his head. "Leave her alone about that stuff," he warned, and Abby nodded, and distracted. Mike looked at Jethro questioningly and Jethro stood, making sure Lizzy's stuff stayed on the table. "She quit believing in all that after Shannon died," he muttered, explaining.

"Ah," Mike grunted, turning to look at Kelly. She came into the room where everyone was, sans Tony, and placed a tin container of cookies on the table.

"Everyone can have some," she announced. "I made them all by myself, except Daddy got them out of the oven."

Tony marched back in with the goods a few moments later and Elizabeth gasped, her blue eyes going wide with excitement.

"LOOK! More presents! Look, Daddy!"

"I see, honey."

Mike chuckled and pointed over to the tree; Tony marched obediently in that direction and set down his bag, putting his hands on his hips and posing in a silly way. Elizabeth squirmed in Abby's arms and the Goth released her, scampering over to the tree as excitedly as the three-year-old herself.

"Kelly, come on," Abby called, beckoning happily. Kelly looked at Jethro briefly and dashed over to them, kneeling next to Abby with a smile. Jethro stood up, moseying over to the back of the couch with Mike to watch.

"These are from Mike," announced Abby. "He picked them out all by himself, and don't let him tell you otherwise," she added slyly. Jethro saw why it was necessary for her to clarify that so wickedly when she distributed large, fluffy, multicoloured teddy bears to the girls. Lizzy's was almost as big as her.

"Aww, it's so soft!" Kelly said, rubbing her nose into the bear's fur. Elizabeth peeked at her sister and then at Mike. She giggled, and Kelly nodded, and Jethro glanced at Mike with a smirk. Both girls jumped up and bounded on to the couch, attacking Mike with thankful hugs.

Mike immediately grumbled scarily under his breath. He glared threateningly at Abby when she snuck a camera out of her skirt pocket and started snapping pictures. Elizabeth laughed and returned to the presents as quick as a flash, sitting her bear up next to her, but Kelly straightened and kissed Mike on the cheek.

"Thank you, Mr. Franks," she said nicely.

"You're welcome, kiss-up," he said gruffly. Jethro gave him a look. Mike referred to Kelly as a sweet-talker half the time because he had a hard time believing anyone had a polite kid. Kelly grinned, and Mike tapped her cheek gently. "It's for being brave."

Kelly just nodded, and returned to the others slowly, standing up next to the kneeling Abby and smiling when Abby slipped her arm around her waist.

"Okay, so, um, mine or Tony's next?" she asked, looking seriously at the kids.

"How has she been?" asked Mike in a low voice, his eyes straight ahead. Jethro rested his palms on the back of the couch, leaning on it, and shrugged, his face expressionless. He hesitated, watching her for a minute, and then nodded.

"Better," he answered gruffly. "Okay."

"You know, uh, Probie…she asked me'n'Abs to come see her dance…we had to work, an' I keep thinkin' if I'd just sucked it up and gone, I coulda watched her and no one woulda hurt your baby girl."

"Ahhh, Mike," hissed Jethro, shaking his head slowly. He looked over at his boss, the man who he knew had always carried the guilt of not being able to keep Shannon safe, and who had without being asked left the vital information on a certain man's whereabouts laying on his desk for Jethro to _accidentally_ see.

"It isn't your fault," he muttered. Hearing Mike try and take the blame was completely ridiculous, but something on some hidden level told him taking the blame himself was misplaced too. It was no one's fault but the man Kelly dubbed 'Rat King'.

Mike frowned. He looked away, and then glared at Jethro.

"It ain't yours either," he growled.

Jethro gave him a small smile out of the corner of his mouth.

Elizabeth suddenly let out something between a shriek and a giggle and a loud crash followed, drawing Jethro's immediately panicked attention. Somehow the table had been turned on end. Tony looked as if he was trying to hide behind a tree, and even Abby looked guilty.

"Ooops," Elizabeth muttered brightly, scrambling up. She peeked over the mess and smiled when she noticed her father wasn't yelling at her. She jumped up and held up a hula hoop.

"Spinning hoop!" she cried triumphantly, and dropped it over her head. Jethro now saw how the table had been upset, and he envisioned a whole new realm of ways for Elizabeth to do bodily harm to herself.

He glared at his mischievous colleagues.

"Who gave her that?"

Abby and Kelly immediately pointed at Tony. No heroes among idiots, apparently—excluding Kelly, of course; Jethro had never even thought of thinking Kelly was an idiot. DiNozzo, on the other hand—

"You're dead," Jethro growled, and was forced to abandon his plan to slaughter the young agent by the ring of the doorbell. The others were too preoccupied with Elizabeth's hysterical giggling to notice; Jethro retreated into the hall and to the door with a last menacing glare at Tony.

The last thing Lizzy needed was a hula hoop. She already managed to injure herself using toothpaste and socks. And he didn't even remember how that fiasco had ended up in a scratched forehead, he just remembered Kelly trying to explain it through fits of giggles.

He was still grumbling over it when he opened the door, caught off guard for a brief moment to see Jenny until he remembered Kelly—and thus he—was expecting her.

She smiled at him, her face a little red from the wintry cold, wrapped up in a nice coat, gloves, and a scarf.

"Hello, Jethro," she greeted pleasantly.

He nodded in welcome and stepped back, letting her in quietly. He could still hear the laughter and teasing coming from down the hall, and was hardly thinking of what the gesture meant when he gently took the collar of her coat and helped her out of it, hanging her things up.

"I'm not interrupting a party, am I?" she asked.

"Nah, I told Kelly she could call," Jethro answered. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Those idiots weren't invited," he added. Jenny gave a smile laugh, pushing red hair out of her eyes absently and crossing her arms over a pale green turtle neck sweater. He noticed she was out of the sling. "Injury better?" he asked.

She glanced down at the shoulder he gestured at and nodded, shrugging to prove it. She smiled wryly.

"They're still making me re-qualify my firearms examination," she said, slightly annoyed.

"Eh," he snorted, rolling his eyes. Jenny looked over his shoulder, as if waiting for intuitive Kelly to realize she had arrived.

"She still going to ballet?" she asked. Jethro nodded.

"She's doin' good, Jen," he said gently, answering her unspoken question. Jenny smiled, pleased. She looked at him silently for a moment and then flicked her eyes at the direction of the living area. Jethro turned and beckoned his hand, leading her in.

"Kelly," he called gruffly, gesturing his head at Jenny as they walked in. Kelly looked up from the couch; a VHS Tony had given her in her lap, and brightened immediately when she saw Jenny.

"Merry Christmas, Jenny," she greeted warmly, jumping off the couch and coming around to meet her. With that, she instantly drew everyone else's attention. Lizzy added a gasp of excitement, no doubt her one thousandth of the day, to the mix.

Jenny laughed.

"Merry Christmas, Kelly," she answered, returning the girl's friendly hug. Kelly smiled up at her, stepping back, and made room as Lizzy came scampering over, hugging Jenny's leg tightly and wrinkling her nose.

"Santa brought a trike!" she announced. Jenny smiled and ran her hand back through the little kid's hair, returning a nod to Tony's one of greeting and sharing a smirk with Mike Franks. She had barely laid eyes on the other woman in the room when she jumped to her feet and smiled brightly.

"We haven't met," she announced. "Well, not in person—we talked on the phone." She came over to Jenny and clasped her hands. "Hi. I'm Abby. Abby Sciuto," she said, and she reached out and hugged Jenny.

Jenny tensed up, widening her eyes, and relaxed when she realized Abby Sciuto meant no harm. She had never met the woman, no, but she had spoken to her and heard plenty enough about her to know that Abby was trustworthy and she was good.

"I really like you!" Abby announced as she released Jenny. "I know that's weird because we've never met, and I was mad at you at first because you wouldn't let me take care of the forensics and the case, but then I understood because you just wanted the best for Kelly and so did I and Gibbs really likes you too, so I had to like you and it's so nice to meet you and—"

"Abs. Jesus Christ," interrupted Mike, rolling his eyes.

Jenny laughed a little uncertainly.

"It's good to meet you too, Abby," she said, managing to get a word in. "I've heard a lot about you."

Abby beamed. It seemed she trusted that everything Jenny had heard was good. Jenny could tell right off the bat that she was a good, caring person, and she liked her. Mike peered at Jenny moodily through the others and gave her a menacing look.

"Got some nerve, missy, showin' your face to me after turnin' down my job offer," he growled.

Jenny smirked.

She noticed Jethro give Mike a sharp, querying look out of the corner of her eye and ignored it, refusing to quail under Frank's steely gaze. She just gave him a wry smile and a raised eyebrow.

"Admit it, Franks. You like it even more that I spurned your offer," she quipped, and Franks cracked a small smile. Kelly rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, nudging Jenny in the side. Jenny looked down at her and Kelly gave her a half smile.

"Would you like something to eat or drink?" she asked politely.

"No thanks, Kelly," Jenny answered.

"Then come see what Dad—um, Santa brought me for Christmas—oh, and I want to give you something, Jen, come here—" Kelly almost unconsciously shortened Jenny's name and ducked past her, avoiding a playful swipe from Mike Franks.

Jenny bowed out, meeting Jethro's icy blue eyes for a moment before she turned to follow Kelly, winking at Elizabeth as the youngest girl put her hands on her hips, cocked her head, and looked demandingly up at the adults.

"How come Kelly keeps thinkin' Daddy is Santa?" Jenny heard the three-year-old ask, and she laughed under her breath as she wished them all look squirming out of that one.

She followed Kelly into her room, the same room they'd talked in before the trial had started. It was neater now; the bed was all made up, everything was in place, and Jenny smiled softly as she noticed a certain cardboard box on the floor by Kelly's dresser, and some certain possessions stacked on said dresser. She was glad Kelly seemed to be using what Jenny had giving her.

"Daddy got me the whole collection of Angelina Ballerina books," Kelly said, showing them to Jenny proudly. Jenny smiled at the beautifully bound set and ran her finger gently over the clean, soft new ballet shoes on top. "Gramma Jo got me those. They're from _France_," Kelly sounded awed, and Jenny laughed softly.

"So you're glad you went back to ballet," Jenny remarked.

Kelly nodded slowly.

"Yeah," she said. She nodded again. "It was…weird, at first, because a lot of the kids knew something happened, but not what and they asked. Maddie hadn't told them though, because she saw how TJ and the kids at school acted and she feels really bad. Mr. DiCovaggio just acted like nothing happened, and it's like normal," Kelly smiled. "It's nice. It's kind of the only place that feels super normal."

"You don't go to school with the kids from ballet?"

Kelly shook her head.

"Huh-uh, most of them go to private schools in Alexandria. _La Pirouette _is really prestigious, and it's expensive. I had to stop Piano lessons to keep going after," Kelly shrugged a little. "After Mom died. "

"Ah," Jenny said softly, smiling gently.

She sat down in Kelly's armchair, picking up the books and ballet shoes, perching as she looked around Kelly's room. She looked at Kelly.

"Kelly," she asked wrinkling her nose. "Are things at school not getting better or something?" she questioned bluntly, concerned by Kelly's reference to how the other kids acted. She knew Kelly had left school early her second to last day and not gone all day the last day either, and a few days after that is when they'd had lunch, and Kelly had been reticent about school.

Kelly looked down and shrugged. She leaned on the arm and propped her cheek on her palm, frowning at Jenny and taking a deep breath.

"It just isn't the same," she said softly. "Some of the girls ask things, too, and they boys think it's a scary joke…one of them yelled at Maddie that he was going to rape her, and I didn't want to cry, but I did, and that's why I left early," she explained softly. "The teachers treat me weirdly, too. They act all sickly-sweet and hushed, like I'm sick—does that make sense?"

Jenny nodded her head, leaning back in the chair. She chewed on her lip thoughtfully and looked at Kelly for a minute.

"What would you think about switching schools?" she asked mildly. Kelly looked interested, tilting her head a little. She shrugged.

"I think I would miss Maddie a lot. I don't think I would be upset about everyone else though…It would kind of feel like a new start," she mused.

"It might," Jenny said, non-committal. She couldn't imagine how hard it must be for Kelly to be in a situation which pitted a bunch of naïve, blunderingly curious kids against a horror to mature for their understanding. She had never had to face that. Her experience with rape had been more of the dark secret type. "Anything on your mind, honey?" she asked with a friendly shrug.

Kelly smiled.

"Not really," she answered. "I just wanted to have you over. I didn't know the boys and Abby were coming over; I was going to ask you to watch the movie you gave me, _Dirty_ _Dancing_, because Daddy said to watch it with you—and he was going to bundle up Liz and help her with the trike, but then _they_ crashed the party—"

Jenny laughed at the tone Kelly used: friendly, good-natured, and sarcastic at the same time.

"We could make Mike watch it with us," she suggested wickedly. "He'd love it, don't you think?"

"I think it might make him _cry_," Kelly said with a giggle. "He likes all those yucky blood movies where guys in masks kill people."

Jenny made a face.

"Those movies are dumb," she announced to Kelly seriously. "Hey, have you seen _The Maltese Falcon? _If you like _Casablanca_—"

"Tony and I watched it when I had chicken pox last year!" Kelly interrupted happily. "I think Sam Spade is cute," she announced, with a shy look.

"Hey, when you're eight years old, boys have cooties," Jenny said with a laugh.

Kelly turned up her nose snootily.

"I don't believe that, I've _read_ Jane _Eyre_," she announced primly.

"Kelly Gibbs, _you_ are my hero," Jenny complimented, inclining her head gallantly. Kelly blushed and shook her head, dropping her palm from her chin and pushing back from the chair a little. She pushed back a lock of wavy hair and smiled at Jenny.

"I'm not a hero, I'm a kid," she said. "Heroes save people, like Daddy, and Superman, and you," she smiled. "You're a girl though, so I guess that makes you my heroine instead of hero."

Jenny bit the inside of her lip and blinked at Kelly, not really trusting herself to speak for a minute. Kelly smiled warmly and nodded again, as if confirming it. She twirled away from the arm chair and over to her dresser drawer.

"I'm going to give you what I made now," she announced, filling the silence. Jenny swallowed and straightened up, her hand splayed over the _Angelina_ _Ballerina_ books gently. She tilted her head curiously, brow going up a little, as she watched Kelly move things carefully in a drawer.

"Jenny, Daddy gave me back the barrette that you found, that the Rat King ripped out—the butterfly one my Mom gave me? I found it in the basement, and at first I hated it and I cried, but he made me feel better, and I think he was really mad that someone ruined the one of the last things I had of Mom," Kelly frowned, breaking off as she stepped back, holding something. "It made me really mad, too, I think. Mommy got me those barrettes in Jamaica when she and Daddy went, and I really loved them…" Kelly trailed off again.

She walked back over to Jenny, holding a small box in her hand. It had her name drawn on it, and Kelly handed her a coloured Christmas card. Jenny smiled, reaching out to touch Kelly's hand as she took it.

"I wanted to get you some orchids, but they wouldn't last long," she said with a frown, watching as Jenny glanced down to open the box. She pushed tissue paper aside and smiled when she saw two packets of orchid seeds. She looked up at Kelly.

"Good idea," she said. "I'd definitely prefer the orchids on my front porch over those weird begonias my housekeeper plants," she teased. Kelly smiled, her eyes brightening when she saw Jenny genuinely liked her gift.

Jenny lifted up the packets and Kelly leaned over the arm again, grabbing her hand.

"Daddy gave me all of your stuff, and I really liked all of it," she said softly. "Except when I looked through the Emerson book, your bracelet fell out," Jenny felt her mouth go dry as Kelly spoke, hardly having any doubt about what she meant.

Kelly delicately reached into the box and pulled out the broken, hand-crafted orchid bracelet Jenny's father had bought her when he was stationed in Korea when she was very young. It was still broken, as broken as she remembered seeing it lying next to her fingers when Rick Moore had been on top of her—

-she closed her eyes son reflex, taking a deep breath. She opened them after a moment and reached out to touch the charms. Kelly had gotten rid of the one that was chipped and the one that was shattered in half, but the ones still on the fragile chain were left and the single, clear, iridescent largest one had been carefully hooked back on. It was almost wearable again.

"I thought if your Daddy gave it to you before he died, you shouldn't have to hate it. Like it isn't fair for me to have to hate my barrettes or be scared at ballet. I know you might not ever want to wear it, because I don't want to wear my barrettes, but my Mommy gave them to me and they're mine," Kelly stopped suddenly, as Jenny pressed her hand over Kelly's smaller one, her eyes son the charm bracelet she had once loved so much.

"It was in the Emerson book?" she asked hoarsely. "I," she broke off, swallowing hard. "I thought he took it. I thought that son of a bitch took it before the trial, when I couldn't find it, I thought he _stole_ it," she murmured.

Kelly didn't flinch at the curse word; she knew Jenny hadn't realized she spoke so harshly. Kelly's lips puckered though, and she reached out gently, lowering her voice.

"I really didn't want to make you sad, Jenny," she said sincerely. "Daddy told me you wouldn't…I want you to have your dad's bracelet—"

"No," Jenny interrupted thickly. "No, Kelly, I'm not…I'm glad you found it," she whispered, taking it gently and holding it in her hand. She turned stinging eyes on the precocious girl, still processing the mature things she'd said, about her barrette. "It's just been a long time since I've seen it."

Kelly nodded, taking Jenny's hand. Jenny squeezed Kelly's hand firmly and closed her fingers over the bracelet, feeling the cool metal on her fingertips almost surreally. So many mixed feelings hit her to have that bracelet back.

She wasn't sure how Kelly would react to her crying, but she was doing it before she realized it, and she pulled her hand out of Kelly's to cover her eyes briefly, turning her face away.

"It's okay, Jenny."

"I'm sorry," Jenny muttered. Every time she thought of the broken bracelet, she wished to God it had never been broken. If it hadn't, maybe that meant she'd never have been through what she had.

"Don't apologize," Kelly said softly. "Jenny, I don't want you to cry. It's Christmas," she said, leaning closer and touching her forehead to Jenny's. Jenny reached out and touched Kelly's hair warmly. She smiled, biting her lip shakily.

"Yeah," she said hoarsely. "God, Kelly. I wish it had never happened. To you, to—" she shook her head, swallowing, and stroking the kid's hair. Kelly nodded solemnly, pressing her lips together. She had a lost look in her blue eyes for a minute. Jenny felt this wasn't fair to Kelly; the way she was crying. She violently wiped her tears away.

"Me too," Kelly said softly, suddenly. "It makes me sadder when I wish it away," she said hesitantly. "Because I know I can't?"

Jenny nodded slowly. She leaned over and kissed Kelly's forehead, clutching her bracelet again. She leaned back and straightened, leaning forward on her knees and tilting her head towards Kelly with her hair falling over her shoulders and her elbows on her knees.

"I appreciate this, Kel," she said in a quiet voice. "It means…it means a lot."

Kelly beamed, the smile breaking through everything.

"Hey, Kelly, you plannin' on reappearing soon? Tony's stupidity is starting to infect…" Jethro trailed off, mildly curious, as he leaned in the doorway, catching sight of the scene: Kelly, leaning over the armchair, and Jenny leaning forward in it, looking at Kelly with her face completely shielded by red hair.

He looked at Kelly, gauging her mood, and scaled back his volume a little.

"Lizzy wants you two to play _Candyland_ with her, Abby gave it to her and she's goin' on about girls only," he said slowly.

Kelly smiled at him.

"At least Abby didn't get Lizzy something loud," she remarked, pushing off the armchair. "I want to play, Maddie's dad always makes us play with him and he's silly about it," she remarked, amused.

While Kelly was talking, Jenny folded her hands, clutching the bracelet between fingers, and tossed her hair back absently, looking over at Jethro slowly. He noticed the fading distress in her eyes and evident on her face and his eyes narrowed sharply, looking between the both of them.

"Would you like to play, Jenny, or do you want to hang out with the adults? Well, except Abby—she'll play with us," Kelly said.

Jenny looked at Jethro for a moment longer and then raised her eyebrow, giving Kelly a look.

"What, hang out with those old men? I don't think so. I haven't been to the Candy Cane forest in forever, anyway," she said seriously, getting up. Kelly smirked and walked ahead of her towards the door, wrinkling her nose when Jethro ruffled her hair. She stuck her tongue out and he pushed her playfully and gently toward the living room.

Jenny gave him a hard look as she approached the exit to Kelly's room. He glanced stonily down at the bracelet in her hand and reached out, touching her shoulder gently.

"I warned her about that…bracelet," he muttered.

Jenny looked at him a moment, and then lifted her fist, looking at the bracelet passively.

"Kelly understands a lot more than most kids I come across in my job," she said quietly. She looked up at him. "I strive to help girls like her, kids…I need to help them," she took a deep breath and smiled peacefully. "I never thought one of them would help me," she remarked.

Jethro looked caught off guard, and then smiled slowly. He squeezed her shoulder and slipped his hand off of her, and she thought for a moment they were both remembering that night they spent together. He cleared his throat after a moment and she snorted; she must have been spot on, because that's when it got awkward.

She just gave him a wry smile and slipped past. Jethro turned, leaning against the wall and tilting his head back, his arms folded.

"Jenny, Jenny sit by me—and Abby, sit here—" Lizzy immediately began giving orders.

He listened. Tony or Mike popped a beer open and sat down to watch. Kelly laughed at something.

"Hey, where's the candy?" Jenny asked loudly.

"I hope you're being sarcastic, silly," Kelly whipped back at Jenny snarkily.

Jethro grinned to himself.

It was Christmas, and it felt like a good one. He didn't know what had happened between Kelly and Jenny—he was beginning to think that might happen often—but he knew that he had something to be thankful for in what that woman was to his daughter.

* * *

**Christmas Evening (Decembber 25th) 1993. Home of Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Kelly Gibbs, and Elizabeth Gibbs. 9:20 p.m.**

Jethro, Jenny discovered, was like her in that he didn't seem to accept the nuances of electricity. It was late into the evening and dark in the house but the kitchen light and the glow of the television. His daughters were settling down for a Christmas tradition, so Kelly had told Jenny, of watching _A Christmas Story_. Abby and Lizzy were snuggled up, one half asleep, the other completely out of it, on the couch.

Jethro came out of the kitchen with hot chocolate for Kelly and she grinned at him happily when she came away from fixing the television to the appropriate channel. Tony DiNozzo had left; gone lonely Christmas skirt-chasing. Franks stood next to Jenny, and she was busy looking forward with a small smirk, waiting for him to stop glaring at the side of her face and speak.

"I've got an eye on you, missy," he growled, right on cue.

Jenny bit the inside of her lip to hide back a bigger smile and turned her head towards him slowly after a moment, lifting an eyebrow slightly.

"I'm almost afraid to ask why, Franks," she responded mildly, giving him a look. "_Almost_."

"'Cuz I can't figure you out," was his gritty response. He looked at her hard, his crinkly eyes scrunching up as if he were trying to read what was written on the inside of her skull. She weathered the look with grace.

"Oooh, a loaded comment," she mused. "I get the feeling I'm supposed to ask 'why' again."

"You ain't supposed to be asking questions," he growled, looking at her intently. "You need to listen up," he lowered his voice, throwing a glance at Kelly and Jethro as they smiled and he settled Kelly in, checking on Elizabeth and Abby carefully. He looked back at Jenny.

"That man was destroyed by his wife's murder, and that little girl handled it better than any I've ever _seen_, and she was only six," he informed her stoically. "I care a lot about Kelly, and I don't wanna see her lose anyone else, not after this, so forgive me if I ignore Probie's distaste in the way I question your intentions. I ain't used to seein' women in your position, and I sure as hell ain't used to women with no ulterior motive. I can see you're helpin' Kel, and I see she likes you and maybe I'm crazy, but I think you'n'Probie got a little _closer_ than he's lettin' on," Franks gave her a critical eye at this point and glanced back at Jethro before continuing. "You gotta make a commitment now, missy. Either you walk away, or Kelly's got you on her side for the long run, and I want your word you'll never do a damn thing to make that little kid unhappy."

Jenny looked at Mike Franks intently, cataloguing every word he said with admiration and respect. She almost regretted turning down this man's job offer. God knew it would be an interesting place to work, and he, DiNozzo, and Jethro would make interesting colleagues. She couldn't have done it though.

What he said made sense. She didn't blame him for a second for saying it. Many in her profession—their profession—never involved themselves further than necessary in any of the cases. Her involvement and her initiative to care would seem off the wall to quite a few.

She shrugged after a moment, not breaking eye contact.

"You have my word."

She turned her head and looked back at the television, cracking a small smile as she watched a comical scene play out in the classic Christmas movie.

"That's it?" growled Franks unexpectedly. "No cockamamie bullshit about feminism and sexism and 'how-dare-I-assume-you're-trying-to-hook-a-man'?" he questioned, almost furiously.

Jenny looked back at him mildly and laughed quietly.

"Feminism is a shield insecure women throw up to deflect criticism and rejection," she told him bluntly. "I know what my intentions are, I do my job well, and I know who I am. I don't need some arrogant '_ism'_ paving my way anywhere."

Franks remained silent, staring at her dumbly.

He pointed at her sharply.

"I like you," he told her in a gruff voice, and she grinned, shaking her head. The statement was a far cry from the reaction he'd thrown at her when they first met, in sort of the same situation, and yet Jenny liked Franks very much. She understood him.

He cleared his throat, glared at her pointedly, and shut his trap as Jethro approached.

"You want coffee?" he offered to Jenny in a low voice.

She hesitated for a moment, unsure if she should still be hanging around this late on Christmas. He looked at her genuinely though, and Kelly was still wide awake, so she smiled gratefully and nodded, accepting.

"Mike?"

"Nah, I'm getting' outta here, Probie," Mike growled in response. He fished keys out of his pocket and gave the dark area of the living room a squinty look. "Lemme say goodbye to them first, then I've got a few cases to finalize," he muttered, heading over to the couch.

Jethro rolled his eyes, gave Jenny a look, and slipped past her back into the kitchen. She heard the coffee start to brew and took a deep, relaxed breath. It was weirder than weird to be somewhere other than her study or locked in her bathroom on Christmas. Surprisingly, she rarely spent Christmas day at work, but it was usually a cold, repressive day for her; she spent a lot of the time attempting _not_ to think rather than sorting her thoughts.

She smiled in small amusement as Mike attempted to say goodbye to Lizzie and instead was hugged by a half-awake Abby. Abby, it seemed, was big on the hugging. She wondered how Munch would feel when he called her to check up on her and got to answer at the office or at home. He might just call out the secret service to find her, afraid she was on some street corner peddling sex again.

She hoped to God he knew her better than that by now.

"You take care of yourself, girl," Franks barked at her as he passed, giving her a firm nod. Jenny smiled and gave him a small salute in response, watching the back of Kelly's head. The girl was snuggled up away from Abby and her sister, cupping her hot chocolate in two hands, attention rapt on the screen. Jenny noted that she didn't cuddle up with the others, wondering if it were always like that or if it was a consequence of recent events.

It was a few minutes later that Jenny heard Franks leave, and a few minutes still until Jethro appeared silently next to her with a mug of hot chocolate. Then they were leaning against the bar, watching the girls, just as quiet.

"Kelly said this was a tradition?"

"Yeah, every year since she was a baby. The movie comes on over and over on this one channel," he answered gruffly.

Jenny nodded. She blew lightly on her coffee, tested the temperature with her tongue, and then took a sip, closing her eyes. She really had to figure out how the coffee he made was always so superior to other coffee. Was it him, or the beans he used?

"Has Kelly wanted to talk to you about school?" Jenny ventured, turning towards Jethro a little and cradling her mug in her hands. She tilted her head and looked at him curiously. He sighed, almost a groan, and his brow wrinkled slightly.

"She's have a hard time," he said in a low voice, and Jenny had trouble discerning if it were a question or a reluctant resignation. He was intuitive about Kelly; Jenny was aware of that. She opted to go with the latter.

"Teachers," she probed mildly.

"Yeah, that's the biggest problem, I think," he growled through gritted teeth, and she knew it bugged the hell out of him to deal with the fact that the people who should help Kelly along were making her the most uncomfortable.

Jenny chewed the inside of her lip thoughtfully, choosing her words.

"I asked her if she thought switching schools would help," she said mildly, shifting her weight to focus more on Jethro. "She seemed interested in the idea. She said she'd miss Maddie but," Jenny trailed off, trying to gauge his reaction.

He narrowed his eyes somewhat.

"She's in one of the only schools Shannon thought was good enough," he muttered uncertainly. "I wouldn't know where to send her."

"Public," remarked Jenny promptly. She lifted her eyebrow. He snorted, taking a drink of his coffee and glancing at her. He narrowed his eyes at her this time.

"Pubic," he repeated, agreeing with her. He looked at her, waiting, and Jenny smiled a little, aware he was going to make her do all the work.

"The only _public_ school that was good enough," she remarked gently. "DC has hundreds of private schools. Jethro, Kelly is _smart_. She's so smart. There's a school," Jenny paused, making sure she had his attention. "There's a school in Georgetown, near where I live. Washington International School. The primary grade campus is in Georgetown, at least. It's damn good."

Jethro looked at her skeptically. He looked over at Kelly, his eyes hard and deep in thought, and he watched her laugh before he shook his head slowly, looking back at Jenny with a wry smile. He swallowed.

"Ah, Jen," he grumbled. "I couldn't afford to send her to some fancy school like that," he said bluntly, shrugging his shoulders. He wished he could; he wished he could do that for Kelly because he'd been told so many times she was too far ahead of the kids in her class, but he'd never wanted her to skip ahead just for age reasons.

"That's where the smartness comes in," Jenny said cleverly. She smirked. "Kelly could get a scholarship, Jethro. Look," she turned her look more earnest, "applications are usually due in January. I'm friends with one of the counselors for the younger kids there, she's a good woman, I can talk to her about Kelly's options. It couldn't hurt to look into it," Jenny shrugged like he had and looked back at Kelly, lifting her coffee cup to her lips. "Give her a fresh start maybe, a real one, among teachers who will challenge her intelligence."

Jethro looked torn. He looked skeptical and unsure. He glared at her in a benign way.

"You really think it's a good idea to rip her away from a familiar school, now? Disrupt her life again?" He shook his head bitterly. Muttered under his breath. Jenny caught him growling about first losing her mother, now this…

She smiled softly at the back of Kelly's head, admiring everything she saw Kelly go through, thinking of her potential. She wanted to badly to see Kelly utilize everything she had, and turn everything that had ever worked against her into something she conquered.

"Don't look at it as disrupting her life. Her life's already been disrupted. Nah, Jethro, it's more like giving her a clean slate and telling her if she wants to, she can change the world."

Jethro remained silent.

"Who the hell talks like that?" he asked her after a minute, sounding seriously concerned about her.

Jenny laughed, louder than she meant to. Kelly turned around and looked at them a moment, then went back to her movie, smiling. Jenny giggled softly and looked at Jethro. He grinned at her cautiously, giving her a look like she was crazy.

"You sound like a damn self-help book," he growled at her.

She inclined her head and lifted a brow.

"When you've spent as much time around a psychiatrist as I have, it happens," she quipped wryly, leaning back and taking another sip. He shook his head, snorting derisively. She wasn't offended. She knew good and well she sounded like Dr. Huang half the time.

Jenny smiled into her mug of coffee. Jethro cleared his throat and shifted suddenly. She was surprised when he turned towards her and lowered his voice, closer than before.

"You think Kelly needs to see a shrink?" he asked bluntly, keeping his tone very quiet. He clearly didn't want to freak his daughter out. Kelly giggled again, raptly watching her movie. Abby muttered something loudly, completely asleep now.

Jenny met Jethro's eyes, considering him for a moment.

"Yes," she answered finally. She saw the adverse reaction in his eyes and held up a hand to placate, keeping him silent. "I know it seems like Kelly is okay—as okay as she can be. But she might get worse; it might hit her hard when she's older. Professionally, I would recommend she see one," Jenny paused, and then went on firmly. "Personally, from the standpoint of having been in therapy myself…she needs it Jethro. And it's not because she's crazy, it's because she's going to hurt, and I know that some days therapy was the only thing that kept the barrel of my gun out of my mouth."

She felt her honesty was brutal, but it was needed. Just because Kelly was coping well didn't mean on a psychological level she was healing right, and Jenny didn't want to risk anything manifesting itself later in her life and ruining her chances.

Jethro looked at her darkly, stepping back some and looking at Kelly. Jenny let him brood quietly for a moment and then spoke up, chewing her lip again thoughtfully.

"She liked George—Dr. Huang. George is responsible for getting me to stop waking up screaming. I could talk to him about seeing her. She could come up to the station once a week, see him, see me," Jenny suggested.

Jethro looked more receptive to that idea.

"She'd like that," he murmured under his breath some. It would make it easier on him, not having to figure out when Kelly could next see Jenny, what worked, what was appropriate and not awkward. As nice as this conversation was, Jethro still felt the subtle uncertainly and awkwardness that came with sleeping with someone without meaning to, technically. He knew it more by social conditioning than experience.

They fell silent after that, for a brief moment. They watched the movie. Jethro locked his eyes on Kelly, his head full of her and what was best for her. He spared a brief glance to check on Liz and Abby, but neither of them worried him.

He took a drink of his coffee, cleared his throat, and brushed past Jenny, touching her arm gently. She looked up at him, her brow furrowed, and he jerked his head stiffly towards the kitchen.

She followed him, watching him set his coffee cup down by the sink. He leaned forward on it; she cocked her hip against a counter, her arm wrapped protectively around her waist, the other resting on the counter with her mug in her hand. He turned around after a moment.

"That night," he growled, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Before Kelly's trial, that night we," he faltered. "I wasn't using you," he ground out finally, letting his hand fall from his neck. He braced both palms behind him on the counter. "I don't know what I was doing," he grumbled after a moment.

He looked up at her momentarily.

Jenny met his gaze and then looked down at her mug, her eyes on the dark, aromatic liquid in her mug. She tapped a filed nail against the ceramic and looked back up at him, her eyes intent. She tilted her head and shook her hair back.

She shrugged. Her classic move, it seemed.

"I know that," she said softly. And she did. She had good instincts. That was something that had come from fending for herself for so many years. She knew innately that Jethro would have in no way deliberately hurt her. "I could have kicked you out, Jethro. Could have said no," she remarked mildly. She plucked up her mug. "I didn't," she added bluntly.

He stared at her. He had such blue, beautiful eyes. She had to blink; images of that night flashed across her vision and she didn't want to dwell on it. That was a tangle in this web that was unnecessary; avoidable, and now, couldn't be unknotted.

She smiled faintly after a minute.

"In another world—" she started.

"Yeah," he interrupted.

"In a different situation," she muttered, blinking her eyes in quick succession. She smiled widely and shook her head slowly, blowing out air between her lips. It was somehow a relief to know that he got that feeling too; that it wasn't just luck that had thrown Kelly into Jenny's jurisdiction, it was some sort of 'fate' if you wanted to believe in that. The world knew placing Kelly in Jenny's care would benefit her.

"You have got to stop feeling guilty, Jethro," she growled quietly.

He scoffed at her, shook his head, his eyes hardened a little.

"Guilty?" he grunted nonchalantly.

She nodded slowly. She set her mug back down.

"Guilty," she repeated softly. "About your wife. About me, Kelly, everything. Not a damn thing that happened is your cross to bear."

He looked at her impassively. His knuckles were white on the oven behind him and he looked up, his jaw tight, his shoulders tense, a muscle in his temple twitching. He rubbed a hand over his mouth suddenly and looked through, narrowing his eyes at Kelly. Jenny sensed he was barely holding it together.

She slowly pushed away from the counter.

He suddenly slammed his fist back down on the counter, causing a loud thud, and a clinking as something shook slightly. Jenny bit her lip and flinched, startled. He tore his eyes away from Kelly towards her.

"I swore I'd never let anything hurt her," he said hoarsely. "I don't ever want her to suffer another minute," he broke off, his blue eyes intense. "She's going to be okay. Jen," his voice was almost warning her, begging her. "She's going to be okay," he rasped.

Jenny relaxed slightly. Jethro just hadn't had a chance. He didn't have a moment to take it in and grieve about it. He probably didn't let himself anyway. Jenny approached him and reached out and squeezed his bicep, stoically ignoring the shimmer in his eyes that indicated violently suppressed tears.

"She's going to be okay, Jethro," Jenny said sincerely. It helped so much that she believed it.

He reached out and hugged her, and she wasn't quite sure if she initiated the gesture or not. She hugged him back, soothing and comforting more than anything else. Her hand rested gently on his neck and she looked over his shoulder at the clock on the oven, her mouth touching his ear slightly.

"She'll make it Jethro," she promised quietly.

Her bracelet, old and new at the same time, the charms cool, brushed against the nape of his neck as she shifted her hand. His shoulders shook as he took a deep breath; she felt him draw it in through her hair.

"Daddy," Kelly said softly, walking slowly into the kitchen. She held her empty hot chocolate, and looked at Jenny in worry when the redhead stepped back from hugging Jethro demurely. Kelly came forward a little more, setting her mug up next to Jenny's on the counter.

"Daddy, are you okay?" she asked in a small voice.

He swallowed quickly.

"Yeah," he answered gruffly.

She looked a hell of a lot like she didn't believe him in the least. He reached up and rubbed his hand over his eyes absentmindedly, as if the gesture meant nothing. Jenny pushed her hair back, smiling at Kelly warmly as the kid looked to her for comfort.

"I don't want you to miss our favorite part," she said, brightening a little. She was on the sleepy side, it seemed, but her eyes lit up a little. "It's after the commercial," she added, yawning a little. She inched up to Jenny, wrapping her arms around herself in her winter pajamas, and shivered a little. "Are you staying the night?" she asked innocently.

Jenny laughed under her breath at the irony. Jethro snorted.

"No, Kelly," she answered easily. "Overstaying my welcome," she quipped wryly. "Nah, I've got a warm bed at home that I love too much to neglect."

Kelly gave Jenny a grumpy look.

"You can't overstay your welcome," she mumbled seriously. "I always want you to feel welcome."

"Thanks," Jenny said softly.

Kelly cocked her head and leaned away from Jenny.

"Come on, stay for the rest of the movie. It's hilarious. I know you missed the first half, but it's funny," she reached up and took Jethro's arm, tilting her head. "It's almost back, Daddy, Ralphie is going to try on his bunny PJs," she said with a smile.

Jethro tilted his head welcomingly towards the living room and Jenny held up her hands in mock defeat, following the father and daughter to the couch. Jethro sat down as the commercials faded back into movie and Kelly climbed up next to him, leaving a space next to her for Jenny to sit comfortably between herself and the pile that was Abby and Elizabeth.

Jenny took the seat, playfully kissed the side of Kelly's head, and Kelly giggled, wrinkling her nose and snatching up the remote. She snuggled under Jethro's arm and turned the volume up just a little, resting her head against his chest and burrowing down to watch the movie in uninterrupted peace.

Jethro smiled and leaned back, one arm over the back of the couch. Jenny watched Kelly for a minute, and then looked over to the television with a smirk, having seen the movie before. She glanced over to witness the cuteness of Abby and Lizzy's sleep, but Elizabeth was blinking at her groggily in the dim light, awakened by the louder TV.

She whined softly and sat up, looking at Jenny.

"Pillow," she announced in sleepy speech, and reached out for Jenny. Jenny raised her eyebrows and took Elizabeth's hand gently, forgetting to hesitate before she lifted the three-year-old into her lap. Elizabeth wriggled her nose, dropped her head against Jenny's shoulder, and feel instantly back to sleepy, a fistful of red hair in her small hand.

Kelly giggled.

"You know, it comes on again after this," she remarked in a whisper, nodding towards the television. "You can stay and see the half you missed, Jenny," she offered, turning her eyes back to the TV.

Jenny looked at Jethro with a smirk, and then focused on the movie, marveling somewhat at the unorthodox weirdness of these events. It felt strangely good, comfortable in an awkward way, to spend Christmas like this. It meant more to her than anything that Kelly was so resilient and so receptive to her.

And with Lizzy curled up on her shoulder fast asleep, she figured she was sticking around, for the meantime.

* * *

_Two part epilogue to end it up next. _


	12. Epilogue Part 1

_A/N: Time jump. This idea struck me, and I thought it was an interesting way to do it. Let me know (after you finish part 2). _

_Kelly: 17 years old. Senior in high school.  
Elizabeth: 12 years old. Seventh grader.  
Leroy Jethro Gibbs: NCIS Agent. Age withheld ;)  
Jennifer Gibbs: SVU Detective; married Jethro in '97. _

**

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**

**Nine Years Later**

**Thursday, October 31st, 2002. Home of Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Jennifer Gibbs, Kelly Gibbs, and Elizabeth Gibbs. Kelly's Bedroom. 11:49 p.m.**

Kelly Gibbs yawned and blinked slowly, leaning back in her chair to stretch her stiff muscles. She straightened up, picked up her mug of Chai tea, and took a slow sip, her blue eyes focused sharply on the glowing screen of her laptop.

Her desk lamp cast the only lemony yellow light in the room aside from the subtle green blinking of her alarm clock and the occasional flicker of her cell phone. It was way too late to be up, she had a Chemistry test tomorrow, and yet this took precedence, and in the silence of her house at this hour, she was at peace.

She took another relaxed sip of her tea, poising her petite fingers over the keyboard.

For six weeks now, she'd been composing this admissions essay, answering this question:

_Indicate a person who has had a significant influence on you, and describe that influence._

Kelly chewed on her bottom lip delicately. She set her mug next to her laptop, tucked a strand of messily curled auburn hair behind her ear, and resumed revising the essay.

It felt like she'd been writing this forever. Hell, it felt like rehashing the past nine years of her life, just to convince her dream college that she'd be a damn good asset if they let her in. It was so weird to look back on everything from sort of an outside perspective. She looked at the heading, the title.

_How many essays on Eleanor Roosevelt have you received, read, and pushed aside? How many boys extol the virtues of Martin Luther King, Jr.; how many girls faun over Marilyn Monroe? There's no doubt that, as a university, you're read essays on Ghandi, Ronald Reagan, Winston Churchill—the list goes on. Influential people for influential events, but I read this question, and not one celebrity or world savior comes to mind; after all, how can an idol one has never met really influence one significantly? _

Fixing errors she'd missed, substituting fancy words for a different fancy word, checking the word count every now and then. God, this essay ideally should have been submitted weeks ago, but she wanted it perfect; flawless. Kelly leaned forward, her mug warm in her hand, reading her words.

_The question posed bids me indicate a person whose influence on me has been significant; the person I choose is not a famous singer, peacemaker, president, or philosopher: she's just a woman no one outside of Precinct fourteen's jurisdiction has ever heard of. She hasn't saved millions, but she has saved me. She never cured a virus or brought peace to the Middle East, and she hasn't slain a dragon—yet. This woman, ordinary by definition, is extraordinary by nature; she is my choice because she didn't just influence me, she impacted me, she fixed me, and she made sure I'd never stray from the path that would end with me writing this essay: My Stepmother. _

Kelly smirked to herself, tilting her head at the word. Ugh, 'Stepmother' had such a distasteful connotation in the English language. Evil stepmother, ugly stepmother, rich gold-digging stepmother…Kelly snorted.

With big, watchful yellow eyes, her old cat Mike Franks blinked up at her from next to her lamp, his tail flicking lazily over the keyboard. She was used to his presence there. A jingle sounded from the bed and she glanced over, smiling a little as the big Golden Retriever on her bed twitched in his sleep.

She stared forward at the admissions essay. She'd chosen to answer this prompt because it seemed natural. It may have been easy to pick the one asking her to detail an obstacle she'd over come (rape would probably get her in anywhere) or the one that required her to discuss a global issue and her opinion (she was pretty loudmouthed at that).

No; she had to choose this one. She owed a whole hell of a lot to Jenny. She owed her private school education, her first kiss, her drive, her courage—that cute new pair of green stilettos Dad didn't know about yet. Dad's happiness. Yeah, a lot.

Kelly's eyes roamed down the page. She skipped the exposition, she corrected what Microsoft word bid her correct, she squinted, revised again, checked, flicked her eyes at the clock, and lazily read another random paragraph, scratching Mike Franks sweetly behind his ears.

…_Society whispers like they know best. Never ask me how long Dad and Jenny carried on their cute clandestine little secret love affair before he married her—when I was twelve—I only had a hunch; female intuition. I heard the sharpest whispers; critiques that Jenny had used her position and me to rope Dad into a marriage while he was vulnerable but there was never a falser word spoken against her. I spent so much time with Jenny, in therapy and when she helped get me to and from the private school the first few months, she became part of our family. She was always there; she was my friend, she was my baby sister's mother figure; like hell Dad wouldn't fall in love with her. I didn't bat an eyelid when they got married—she was already everything to me…_

Kelly balanced her now half empty mug of tea on her palm, pressing her lips together. The paper detailed all Jenny had shown her, helped her with, said and done that gave Kelly the arsenal to make the decisions she did and cultivate the motivation she had.

She heard footsteps out in the hall, a door creaking. There was a soft thud, and Kelly smiled; Lizzy rolling over into the wall in her bedroom again. She did it at least five times a night. Kelly puckered her lips lovingly at Mike Franks. He purred appreciatively, watching her.

She stared with thoughtful blue eyes again at the paper. Four pages; edited, ready to go once she attached it to her application and sent it in. Thank the lord for online applications. Kelly brushed stray hairs back again, blowing wisps out of the way. Her hair was still all swept up and fancy from her Halloween costume; she'd been at Maddie's party earlier. She couldn't forget to take off her make-up.

Her dog sat up abruptly on her bed and a sliver of light cast into the room.

…_I never quit ballet because of Jenny, I never lost my nerve because of Jenny, and I don't dare think there's no way for me to accomplish something—again, because of Jenny…_

Kelly looked over her shoulder, sipping tea nonchalantly, as the woman of the essay crept in, shutting the door and leaning against the wall. The redhead, clad in a loosely tied bathrobe and short nightgown, yawned.

"I smell tea…" she murmured dreamily, smiling. She sounded half asleep.

"Guilty," Kelly said quietly, holding up her mug. "And I thought I was being so sneaky. Did I wake you?"

Jenny snorted softly and disbelievingly. She shook her head and came forward.

"Your father is snoring again," she muttered grumpily, and Kelly laughed. Jenny crawled onto Kelly's bed and cuddled up with Machiavelli, the whole family's beloved dog that really belonged to Kelly; he had been named oddly by Kelly after an Italian politician. Jethro referred to him grumpily as 'Mach'.

"I already kicked him twice and tried smothering him with a pillow," grumbled Jenny sleepily, her voice muffled in Machiavelli's fur. The retriever thumped his tail happily, and Mike Franks hissed in warning. Kelly pet his head to placate him.

"Hmmm," she mused. "And how did that work for you?"

"Oh you know your father. There has to be a silver bullet and garlic and a full moon to quell his snores…" she trailed off in a mutter. "Hmm, or something like that."

Kelly giggled softly, taking a sip of her coffee with a shake of her head. She swiveled back to her computer, tossing her head again, her eyes narrowing at the last bit. It felt surreal to be doing this with the title woman in the room.

So much, in nine years. Come to think of it, so much in her whole seventeen years of life. Losing her mother, gaining Jenny…that horrible experience she'd been through when she was eight. Her rape, as much as she accepted and dealt with it, was still not something she was flippant or 'okay' with.

"Whatcha doing, swan princess?" Jenny asked, still lounging contentedly on the bed.

"Admissions essay," answered Kelly casually.

"Fun stuff. Due when?"

Kelly glanced at her alarm clock.

"Four minutes," she answered breezily.

"Cute," Jenny mused, opening one eye with a lifted brow. "Miss Punctual slacking off?"

"Revise, revise, revamp, revise," Kelly fired off primly.

"Ah, you perfectionist."

"Coping mechanism," retorted Kelly with a wry smile and wink.

"Shrinks will make you crazy, you know," Jenny informed solemnly.

"Who woulda thunk?" replied Kelly brightly, enjoying the small private joke.

She smiled, shook her head fondly, and set her mug down, folding her arms and tilting her head. She read over the last paragraph of her essay as Jenny fell silent, stroking Machiavelli lovingly, her head on Kelly's pillows. She was probably here for the night again.

Kelly chewed on her lip, almost ready to submit her essay.

…_I opted for writing about Jenny over writing about my rape because being raped at eight years old did not make me who I am; it did not influence any of the decisions that got me where I am today. That was Jenny. It is not because I was raped that I feel entitled to an good education and the highest opportunities, it is because one woman who was a stranger to me during the worst period of my life told me that I could do anything I wanted to, and no one could take the ability to succeed away from me. Jenny made sure I had no excuses for mediocrity, she poured her heart into giving me every chance and making me thankful and because of everything she did for me, I am determined to be the best I can be. I am going to take the strength she gave me and turn it into achievement because to do anything less than that would be throwing away the future she gift-wrapped for me. I have no doubt that your university is the best place for me to further my goals and broaden my education; what's left to see is whether or not you feel the influence Jenny had on me made me the kind of student you're looking for._

Kelly licked her lips slowly. Her finger twitched as she attached the document, glancing over it one more time. She looked over at Jenny; it seemed her stepmother had fallen peacefully asleep in the absence of Jethro's snoring.

She took a deep breath as she finalized the application, switched it from 'in progress' to 'complete' and instantly, it felt like a lingering stress was lifted from her shoulders. There was nothing left to do now but wait for spring's letter—acceptance or denial. She looked at her clock; it was now exactly midnight: November first. Application deadline.

"Come on, Brown, tell me I'm good enough," she urged under her breath.

Her eyes flickered to the Brown University sports flag she had tacked up over her desk, and slowly, she closed her laptop, leaning forward to place a kiss to Mike Frank's head. Habitually, she scampered over to the wall her bedroom shared with Lizzy's, and she rapped gently in Morse code on the wall, careful not to wake her twelve-year-old sister.

She smiled, and moseyed back over to the bed, yanking her comforter from under Jenny to force the redhead to share. Machiavelli thumped his tail and Kelly snuggled up on the unoccupied side of him, curling under the blanket.

She was really going to have to get Daddy's snoring problem fixed if Jenny was going to keep hijacking her bed.

"What did ya write about?" Jenny mumbled groggily, reaching over and rubbing Kelly's shoulder affectionately.

Kelly smiled into Machiavelli's soft fur and shrugged her shoulders, burrowing down to go to sleep.

"You know. Just this cop."

"Franks?" Jenny asked innocently, snorting.

Kelly rolled her eyes.

"You, Jenny, you lady of the night."

Jenny huffed, but Kelly could hear her humble embarrassment in the scoff.

"Kiss ass," Jenny muttered.

Kelly laughed. She closed her eyes, and smiled in the dark. Jenny punched her shoulder softly.

Hmm. Definitely not ugly, gold-digging, or evil stepmother. Unorthodox stepmother, maybe.


	13. Epilogue Part 2

_A/N: So this is the final chapter. Let me tell you; this story was interesting to write. I've written grittier rape stories, but this was more pyschological and took a lot of maneuvering. That being said, I liked writing it. This may well be my last chapter fic for a few weeks or a month, as I won't have time to write much at all in coming weeks. _

_Hmmm, any necessary information you need? Tidbits? Here. _

_Kelly Gibbs: Went to the private school Jenny suggested in Ch. 11. Think of "Matilda" when you think of Kelly's smarts; I modeled her after that. She channels a lot of the emotions she deals with into being a damn good ballerina and student. Valedictorian. Oh-She's 18 in this second part.  
Elizabeth Gibbs: Tomboy. Soccer and lacrosse player, public school, pretty popular with her peers, way more like Jethro. Calls Jenny 'Mom'. 13 in this part._

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**Saturday, April 5th 2003. Home of Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Jennifer Gibbs, Kelly Gibbs, and Elizabeth Gibbs. 12:13 p.m.**

Any day so close to April Fools Day was an ironic and infinitely cruel day for Brown University to choose as its date of announcing accepted students. The fact that it was Elizabeth's favorite holiday (Lizzy started pranks and jokes at least 2 days before) aside, Kelly Gibbs bore an incredulous dislike towards it today as she held the envelope in one hand and the single piece of paper in the other, still unsure if she should believe the words.

It might just kill her if some little slip of paper fell out with a scrawled '_April_ _Fools_!'.

She read the words again. She stared at them.

_Miss Kelly Marie Gibbs, we are pleased to inform you of your acceptance into the Brown University undergraduate program…_

She imprinted them on her eyes, nailed the words into her skull, and absorbed them into her very skin and bones.

She had been accepted.

She was _in_.

She couldn't help it. She screamed. She hugged the letter and screamed, a little more than pleased that the house was empty, and thus no one would witness her display of hysterical excitement. And this? This wasn't even the best of it.

She closed her eyes and covered her mouth, reading the first line again, the line that told her everything she wanted was seriously possible now. She tossed long auburn hair out of her face. She stood in the living room, still clad in her ballet attire, her ballet slippers still on, hair pulled messily from its ballerina bun. She'd just gotten home from a three hour rehearsal; she'd slept at the studio with a few of the other girls last night.

Her father had left this on the counter with a note; he and Jenny were at Lizzy's district championship soccer game. Kelly was sorry she'd missed it. She looked up sharply when she heard Machiavelli start howling. The big Golden Retriever dashed past her, whining excitedly at the door, his whole body wagging with his tail.

Kelly grinned as her Dad opened the door, glaring at the dog.

"Get _back_, Mach, Jesus," he barked at the retriever.

"Don't listen to him, baby, I missed you," Jenny cooed, squirming in by Jethro and crouching. She snatched up Machiavelli and plastered his head with kisses.

"Don't act like you're mad at me Daddy, you think I'm precious—its seriously not my fault her face collided with my cleat—"

Jethro muttered something at Elizabeth as he kicked the door shut.

"KEL," he shouted.

"Dude, she's right there," Lizzy announced, rubbing Machiavelli herself.

"How was the game?" Kelly asked eagerly, smiling at her little sister. "You win, Lizard?" she used the nickname the soccer team called Elizabeth.

"Er," Elizabeth started.

"She got red carded," Jenny announced brightly.

"_Again_," Jethro growled, glaring at his youngest. She had grown up into every bit the tomboy three years alone on earth with a man like Jethro raising her had guaranteed to turn her into, and to this day it drove Gramma Jo into a histrionic state.

"We sort of lost," Elizabeth said, rolling her eyes. "Just by a goal, in the last nick of time, and it's because coach put one of the boys in instead of Bridgett because he's a damn sexist—Kels, we so would have kicked ass if not—"

"Elizabeth. April. Gibbs. If I hear you talk like that _one more time_…" Jethro trailed off dangerously, and received a roll of the eyes and a muttered 'chill, Dad' from his daughter.

Jenny suddenly noticed the unbridled excitement on Kelly's face. It seriously lit up her bright blue eyes and made her cheeks shine. Jenny straightened up from her crouch with the dog, lifting a sculpted eyebrow suggestively.

"You got good news for us, Kelly?" she asked slyly.

Kelly held up the letter triumphantly.

"I got in," she announced. She turned her eyes to Jethro brightly, just how proud and delighted she was showing all over her face when she looked at him. "Daddy, I got _in_!"

He stared at her for a minute.

"Yeah," he drawled slowly. "Yeah, Kelly, of course you did," he said bluntly, honestly, as if he'd never for a second doubted it. Jenny laughed at him. Kelly rolled her eyes and darted forward anyway, launching herself at him.

He grunted in surprise and caught her, hugging her back in surprise. It was pretty rare for him to get a hug from his eighteen-year-old. She was too cool for that. He hugged her nonetheless, a smile breaking over his face. He ruffled her hair playfully, like he had when she was little.

"They'd be crazy to turn you down, honey," he said to her gruffly.

Kelly giggled, her cheeks flushing light pink as she fell back on her heels. She reached up and rubbed a tear away, rolling her eyes at the ridiculousness of crying. She couldn't stop smiling. Machiavelli wriggled against her legs, barking.

"Shhh," Lizzy hushed brightly. She looked up at Kelly happily. "So when you leave for Rhode Island, Mach gets to sleep with me," she teased devilishly.

"Shut up punk, you're going to miss me," Kelly fired back.

"Congratulations, Kelly," Jenny said softly, reaching out to touch Kelly's arm gently. Kelly gave her an absurd look and hugged her tightly. She buried her face in Jenny's neck, wrinkling her nose in Jenny's much shorter red hair. It brushed the redhead's shoulder blades now.

"It's all thanks to you, Jen," she said sincerely, muttering. She pulled back, her hands on Jenny's shoulders. "Couldn't have done it without you."

"Nonsense," Jenny hissed, biting her lip.

"The opposite of nonsense," Kelly retorted primly.

"Wait. Does this mean Mom's going to sleep in Kelly's room all the time now?" Elizabeth asked wickedly, always the instigator of trouble. Jenny reached over and pinched the brunette errant teenager. Lizzy squealed with a laugh.

She called Jenny 'Mom' because she'd never known any other. Kelly had kept that particular name reserved for her own mother, for Shannon, and it had never been a point of injury between her and Jenny. Jenny had been her heroine and her friend; but never quite a mother. It was different for Lizzy.

"_No_," growled Jethro, glaring at Elizabeth again. He did a lot of glaring at Elizabeth.

"Oh. Then you're going to stop snoring?"

"Go wash your cleats off," ordered Jethro in response, pointing to the back porch. Elizabeth stuck her tongue out and punched her sister gently in the arm as she passed, bobbing her soccer ball on her knees expertly.

"Guess all that fancy-shmancy schooling paid off, _brat_," she teased her sister.

"Mock all you want, Lizard, I shall have tea with scholars while you dine with the common folk of public school," Kelly lashed back impishly, smirking. Lizzy stuck her tongue out.

"You rock, Kelly," she called to her sister supportively, darting out onto the back porch and booting her soccer ball away as she collapsed to do as Jethro said. Kelly turned back to her father and Jenny, her smile still gracing her face.

She rolled her eyes, catching the tail end of a flirtatious kiss between the two idiots. Jenny ducked under Jethro's arm, and Kelly caught his eye as he looked up at her, rubbing his head in a self-conscious gesture of uncertainty. He smiled at her, but she saw the stress in his eyes.

"You ready for this, Kelly?" he asked. "It's going to be hard—"

"No," she interrupted quietly, shaking her head. "No; it's not. Lizzy's right," she held up her letter, her eyes stinging again. She still couldn't believe what she had read beyond the initial acceptance. "The private school may have helped, but I think the valedictorian thing kinda pushed them over the edge…even if there are a lot of valedictiorians at Brown, there's a financial program they have, for people under a certain income..." she trailed off, biting her lip. "I got a scholarship, Daddy. We don't have to pay a dime. Full ride."

He looked like he'd been smacked. He stared at her, speechless, while Jenny smiled wryly, hardly surprised. Kelly had accomplished so much. She was a veritable prima donna in ballet; she'd performed with more than a few prestigious companies, she practiced up to twelve hours a week, and on top of that, she maintained her four-point-oh at Washington International, not only to maintain her scholarship but because she worked her ass off to be the best she could be.

The switch to the private school had been the best thing that happened to her when she'd been going through the murky aftermath of rape. Lizzy was smart, but concerned with sports and friends; she preferred public school and that's where she stayed.

"Christ," Jethro muttered. "Kelly…" he broke off, rubbing his mouth and shaking his head. "Kelly, I am so proud of you," he growled at her. Kelly and Jenny had still yet to figure out why he always sounded so aggressive when he got affectionate.

Kelly beamed, biting her lip to keep it from trembling.

Jethro stared at her, his mouth gone dry. It was way too hard for him to process the reality that the kid he'd raised through her mother's death and the more devastating tragedy of rape was standing in front of him, perfectly healthy, more than intelligent, waving the prospect of a full ride to one of the most prestigious schools in the nation in front of his face.

He couldn't have asked for more, than to see her happy, because God knew it hadn't always been easy. High school had been rough for Kelly; that's when all the weighty reality of what rape meant had hit her full force; mostly because she'd been faced with relationships, boys, friends who had sex. He had no idea what would have happened to her if he hadn't had Jenny to help her and to help him.

Kelly grinned slyly and pointed at Jethro accusingly.

"Spring break," she cried gleefully. "In a week and a half, we're going to Mexico. Daddy, you _promised_, if I got in. I've _gotta_ tell Mike. Mexico, Daddy," she informed him brazenly, her eyes glittering.

Jethro groaned.

"You promised her, Jethro," Jenny agreed, wriggling away from her.

Jethro grumbled, but it was good natured. He looked at the happiness written all over Kelly, and watched as Jenny hugged her again, laughing in relief. Kelly had grown up so well, when it all could have gone to hell. To see her now, thrilled and triumphant like this, was worth all of the tears and the terror and the sadness.

"Jenny," Kelly said softly, playing absently with the bracelet on her stepmother's wrist. She clutched the largest crafted orchid in her palm and stared at Jenny's green eyes, chewing her lip. She blew hair out of her face, squeezing Jenny's hand.

"It _is_ thanks to you," she said.

"No," Jenny shook her head. "No, you did this Kelly."

"I wrote about you, remember?" Kelly reminded her honestly. "I wrote about what you did for me and the strength you gave me," Kelly nodded, pressing her lips together. "Accept the gratitude, Jenny, for God's sake. If it hadn't been for you, I would have fallen apart after the Rat King raped me."

Jethro watched, rubbing Machiavelli's soft head absently. His jaw tightened. Jenny looked over at him, quirking her lips in a smile that tried to hide her suppressed tears.

"Oh, I," Kelly laughed, looking guilty. "Ah, Jen, I didn't mean to make you cry!"

Jenny laughed, but it was sort of a sob at the same time. She pushed her short hair behind her ears and turned towards Jethro, tilting her head at Kelly. She sought his eyes, reaching up subconsciously to touch her orchid pendent comfortingly.

"I told you she was going to be okay," she said hoarsely. "She was eight years old, and I told you."

Jethro stepped forward and wrapped an arm around Jenny, rolling his eyes over her head at Kelly to indicate light-hearted fondness. Kelly giggled, watching her father drop a kiss to Jenny's forehead.

"Yeah," he muttered.

He smiled at Kelly over his wife's head.

"She's okay," he said gruffly, looking at Kelly. "She's a dork," he added, and Kelly rolled her eyes, stomping her foot. She smiled brightly; it lit up her eyes.

"See if you still say that when I'm designing the chemical weapons for the United States military, devil dog," she quipped wryly.

"GEEK!" shouted Lizzy from the patio.

Jenny laughed. Odd, how different people could go. Jenny had gone from rape victim to someone who desperately wanted to help others escape the dark path she'd gone down, and she still thrived in that job today. Kelly wanted no association with the profession. She was deeply interested in chemistry and theoretical science.

There were no orchid thieves or rat kings anymore, not really. It seemed now more like a web of who had been good for who than Jenny directly helping Kelly. Kelly had brought Jenny to Jethro, and he had done more for healing her than any therapist ever had—she loved him more than life itself.

Jethro stroked Jenny's hair back, the display of affection unconscious and natural to him even in view of his daughter. Kelly held her letter tightly, standing there on the brink of a way brighter future than he could have imagined nine years ago.

Nine years ago, there was not a damn thing that he thought could come out of someone raping his daughter that could possible turn good in anyway. Sure, given the chance, if he could go back, he never would have let the son of a bitch touch her, but he couldn't change the past.

He was damn glad he'd been able to give her a future. He was glad Jenny had been there for that.

It eased a lot of his stress, and his worry, to see Kelly happy, without a trace of fear or depression or uncertainty. It made him feel damn good. His girls were safe. Their lives hadn't been perfect, or free of pain as he'd have wished—Elizabeth's less heartbreaking than Kelly's—but they were healthy and smart and they meant everything to him.

Kelly beamed primly and narrowed her eyes at Jethro, hands on her hips.

"Mex-i-co," she drawled coaxingly, her eyes sparkling.

Jethro smirked. She was okay; Jenny had always said she would be. Jenny had known from the start what Kelly could achieve, and now it was just a reality. Every time Kelly cried, wanted to give up, hurt, or suffered, Jenny had pulled her back up, been there telling her that what didn't kill her made her stronger.

Hell, Jethro figured all the things that hadn't killed Kelly had just made her damn near invincible.

* * *

_The End_

_"That which doesn't kill you, makes you stronger" -Friedrich Nietzsche_


End file.
